E  tow  AH: 

i^  IJOMANCE  OF  THE  GONFEDERACY 

By  Francis  Fontaine 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 
OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 
PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


MMr   Z  i.  tali 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2009  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hil 


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ETOWAH.    ^^   -^^ 


A  Romance   of  the  Confederacy. 


By  FRANCIS  FONTAINE 


"  Is  it  possible  that  I  see  once  more  an  old  brother  in  arms?    Algernon  Digby, 
I  do  not  forget  you;  but  it  seems  England  has  forgotten. 

"By  the  soul  of  Belisarius !  if  I  needed  money,  I  would  stand  at  a  crossing 
with  my  Waterloo  medal  over  my  breast,   and  say  to  each  sleek  citizen  I  hav 
helped  to  save  from  the  sword  of  the  Frenchman,  '  It  is  your  shame  if  I  starve. 
Now  lean  upon  me ;  I  see  you  should  be  at  home— which  wHy?" 

The  poor  soldier  pointed  his  hand  towards  Oxford  Street,  and  reluctantly 
cepted  the  proffered  arm."— ^rom  "Jfy  Novel,"  Lord  Lytton. 


PUBLISHED  BY  FRANCIS  FONTAINE, 
Atlanta,    Georgia. 
1887. 


Entered  According  to  Act^of  Congress,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1887, 
By  FRANCIS   FONTAINE, 

In  the  OfiBce  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  "Washington,  D.  C. 

ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED. 


DEDICATION. 


To  the  disabled  Confederate  veterans,  this  book  is  respectfully 
dedicated  by  a  fellow-soldier,  with  the  hope  that  it  may  be  the  means 
of  inaugurating  a  practical  sympathy  for  them  commensurate  with 
their  necessities. 

You  confronted  nearly  three  millions  of  enlisted  men,  during  four 
years  of  the  bloodiest  war  on  record,  with  a  patriotism  and  heroism 
unsurpassed  in  history.  Of  these  3,000,000  men  enlisted  in  the 
armies  of  the  United  States,  303,843  were  killed  during  the  war,  and 
the  average  of  killed  and  wounded  in  battle,  on  one  side  or  the  other, 
frequently  exceeded  thirty  per  cent,  of  the  forces  engaged. 

Neither  Waterloo,  nor  Wagram,  nor  Lodi,  nor  any  of  the  great  bat- 
tles fought  by  Napoleon,  show  as  great  percentage  of  losses  as  the 
battles  of  the  Wilderness  and  Spottsylvania,  Chicamauga  and  Atlanta, 
Gettysburg  or  Shiloh. 

At  Gettysburg,  Pennsylvania,  54,000  men  fell ;  at  Chicamauga, 
Georgia,  33,000  men  were  killed  and  wounded.  Malice  can  find  no 
lasting  1)1  ace  in  a  hero's  heart,  and  these  figures  are  presented,  not 
to  revive  bitter  memories  of  the  past,  but  that  the  reader  may  appre- 
ciate the  enormous  number  of  helpless,  aged,  and  crippled  veterans 
throughout  the  Southern  States.  While  twelve  millions  of  dollars  a 
month  are  paid  as  pensions  to  the  Federal  soldiers,  whether  wounded 
or  not,  no  government  pensions  these  Southern  soldiers,  and  no  pub- 
lic charities  have  been  organized  for  their  benefit. 

LET  veteran's  HOMES    BE    BUILT   FOR   THOSE   THAT   ARE   HELPLESS. 

Philanthropy  had  never  a  nobler  field  of  labor,  and  a  patriot's 
gratitude  cannot  find  more  worthy  recipients  than  these  maimed 
heroes  who  yielded  all  in  defence  of  their  country. 

We  of  the  South  owe  it  to  them  as  a  sacred  duty,  and  the  grea 
heart  of  the  American  people  will  esteem  it  a  debt  worthily  bestowed 

"The  soldier's  spirit  greets  the  soldier's  call, 
There  is  no  hate  between  the  brave  and  brave, 
And  he  whose  hand  in  battle  labored  first, 
When  darkness  falls  will  labor  first  to  save." 

As  a  slight  contribution  to  building  a  Veteran's  Home  in  the  city 
of  Atlanta,  Georgia,  one-half  of  the  proceeds  of  this  book  will  be  ap- 
plied to  that  purpose. 


PREFACE. 


Scene. — A  Book-store  in  New   York  City. 

Visitor — "  Have  you  any  book  treating  of  the  negro  as  a  slave  and 
as  a  freedman  and  citizen  ?  Any  book  that  describes  the  domestic 
Hfe  of  the  Southern  people  under  the  regime  of  slavery?" 

Bookseller — "Oh,  yes,  'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin'  is  very  popular." 

Visitor — "  I  know  that,  and  deservedly  so.  I  have  seen  that  book 
all  over  Europe,  translated  into  half  a  dozen  languages.  But  that 
treats  of  slavery  as  it  was  thought  to  be  by  the  Abolitionists  before 
the  late  war  between  the  States ;  it  describes  the  horrors,  but  not  the 
brighter  phases  of  slavery." 

Bookseller— ''We  have  '  The  Impending  Crisis,'  by  Helper.  It 
was  recommended  for  circulation  by  sixty-eight  members  of  Con- 
gress, and  also  by  the  Secretary  of  State,  when  it  was  published." 

Visitor  — "That  is  not  wiiat  I  want,  either.  Like  *  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin,'  it  pandered  to  the  prejudices  of  the  Abolitionists  and  advo- 
cated the  confiscation  of  slave  property  without  compensation  to  the 
owners.  It  used  the  following  language,  which  shows  the  animus  of 
the  book : 

*  Frown,  sirs ;  fret,  foam,  prepare  your  weapons,  threaten,  strike, 
shoot,  stab,  bring  on  civil  war ;  dissolve  the  Union.  You  can  neither 
foil  nor  intimidate  us;  we  have  determined  to  abolish  slavery,  and, 
so  help  us  God,  abolish  it  we  will !  Compensation  to  slave-owners 
for  negroes  !  Preposterous  idea;  the  suggestion  is  criminal,  the  de- 
mand unjust,  wicked,  damnable,  monstrous.  Shall  we  fee  the  curs 
of  slavery  to  make  them  rich  at  our  expense  ?' 

Such  is  the  language  used.     That  is  not  what  I  want." 

Bookseller  "Then  what  do  you  w^ant?  .  Ah !  I  have  it,  'The 
Fool's  Errand  '   will  suit  you." 

Visitor— "No;  I  have  read  that,  too.  That  is  worse  than  the 
others,  because  it  is  written  by  a  '  carpet-bagger  '  who  settled  in  the 
South  after  the  war  to  make  all  he  could  for  himself  out  of  the  woes 


VI  PREFACE. 

of  an  impoverished  and  disheartened  people.  What  I  want  to  find 
is  a  book  which  will  show  the  South  as  it  was  and  is — the  domestic 
life  and  customs  of  the  people,  both  white  and  black,  both  slave  and 
free — a  book  written  to  give  the  true  histor}'  of  that  remarkable 
struggle,  which  so  puzzled  foreigners,  without  pandering  to  Northern 
or  Southern  prejudices." 

Bookseller — "There  is  no  such  book  printed,  and,  in  my  judg- 
ment, there  will  never  be.     You  may  as  well  give  up  the  search." 

Visitor  {sotto  voce) — "  We  will  see.  Such  a  book  is  needed,  and 
I  will  write  it." 

•  And  thus  this  unpretentious  book  has  been  written  that  the  reader 
may  appreciate  the  motives  which  actuated  the  Southern  States  in 
seceding  from  the  Union. 

In  the  light  of  experience,  sufficient  time  has  already  passed  to 
justify  the  assertion  that  the  great  Republic  has  been  purified  in  the 
fiery  crucible  of  war. 

It  is  also  evident  that  the  Southern  States,  in  the  next  half  century, 
will  have  advanced  far  more  in  all  the  arts,  sciences  and  appliances 
of  civilization  without  slavery  than  with  it.  But  one  can  read  all  the 
histories  from  Nortnern  sources  that  have  been  written,  and  in  none 
of  them  will  be  found  the  unprejudiced,  truthful  description  of  the 
motives,  sacrifices,  triumphs  and  losses  of  the  Southern  people  dur- 
ing the  four  years  of  war  between  the  States.  To  give  a  faithful 
picture  of  life  as  it  was  under  the  regime  of  slaver3s  '*  with  malice 
to  none  and  charity  for  all,"  the  author  submits  this  simple  story  to 
the  public. 


CONTENTS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


PAGE. 

Chapter  I.     Dixie 1 

II.     The  Tournament 12 

III.  Au  Clair  de  Lune 19 

IV.  The  Tramontane  Order 30 

V.     For  the  Collegian 36 

VI.     The  Stars  and  Bars 40 

VII.     At  Intervale 51 

VIII.     The  Capital 58 

IX.     Concerning  the  Mound  Builders 68 

X.     Old  Zeke 85 

XI.    Mr.  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts 89 

XII.     On  Kennesaw 115 

XIII.  The  Slave  Mart 130 

XIV.  The  Two  Democracies 145 

XV.    In  Confederate  Days 159 

XVI.      Fuchsias  and  Geraniums 173 

XVII.     Taking  the  Veil 181 

XVIII 188 

XIX.     Uncle  Barney 199 

XX.    Truly  Loyal 216 

XXI.     Keminiscences,  The  March  to  the  Sea 236 

XXII.  The  March  to  the  Sea 249 

XXIII.  The  Bivouac  of  the  Dead 254 

XXIV.  L'Arcobaleno 264 

XXV.    AtChestatee 279 

XXVI.    A  Governess 287 


VIII 


CONTENTS   OF    CHAPTERS. 


Chapter  XXVII. 
"  XXVIII. 
"  XXIX. 

XXX. 
"  XXXI. 

XXXII. 
"      XXXIII. 
"      XXXIV. 
"        XXXV. 
"      XXXVI. 
"    XXXVIi. 
"  XXXVIII. 
"      XXXIX. 
XL. 
XLI. 
XLll. 

XLiir. 


PAGE. 

The  Torch  Bearers 299 

God's  Acre 308 

My  SonEmile 316 

The  Ku-Klux  Klan 332 

Hallback. 348 

From  "The  Newspaper" 360 

The  Arrest 367 

The  Carnival 376 

"Noblesse  Oblige" 384 

An  American  Sovereign 394 

Nostalgia 414 

The  Convict 443 

Caira 453 

At  the  Library 468 

At  Thronateeska 479 

Arlington 491 

Our  Brother  in  Black 504 

Appendix. 


ETOWAH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

DIXIE. 

The  group  of  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  formed  an  at- 
tractive scene  as  they  halted  their  foam-flecked  horses  one 
afternoon  at  the  hospitable  home  of  Judge  Dearing  in  the 
little  city  of  Etowah  in  a  far  Southern  State. 

That  venerable  gentleman  sat  on  the  piazza  reading  a  news- 
paper, and  with  such  interest  that  the  young  people  had  dis- 
mounted and  were  approaching  the  house  ere  he  perceived 
them. 

A  light-hearted,  silvery  laugh  greeted  him  as  he  arose  to 
welcome  them,  and  his  daughter,  a  lovely  brunette,  intro- 
duced them,  then  added : 

"Well,  Papa,  I  have  brought  them  at  last — these  travelers 
from  a  foreign  land." 

"I  am  delighted  to  have  them  with  us,  Julia ;  you  must 
keep  them  here  as  long  as  you  can,"  said  her  father  as  he 
cordially  welcomed  his  daughter's  guests. 

"Why  did  you  not  take  the  carriage,  Julia,  and  where  are 
the  trunks?"   he   asked. 

"We  preferred  to  surprise  them,  so  Mr.  Latane  and  I  held 
a  caucus,  and  he  agreed  to  provide  the  horses  if  I  would  pro- 
vide the  riding  skirts— and— we've  had  a  glorious  ride." 

"Indeed,  we  have!"  said  one  of  her  friends.  "We  crossed 
the  frontier  at  a  rattling  gallop." 

"And  I  expect  to  see  Miss  Julia  arrested,"  said  Latane, 


ETOWAH. 


''for  she  seemed  determined  to  defy  the  law  about  riding 
slowly  across  the  bridge." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  bridge-keeper  had  a  right  to  pre- 
vent your  riding  fast,"  said  her  father,  "and  you  should  not 
have  galloped  across  the  bridge." 

"But  he  didn't  do  it,"  answered  Julia,  laughing,  as  she 
thought  of  the  incident. 

"I  fear  you  have  deeply  oSended  him,  Julia,  and  I  will  go 
down  and  see  about  it." 

"It  is  not  necessary,  sir,"  said  Latane;  "I  took  the  precau- 
tion of  riding  back,  and,  thinking  that  'the  end  justified  the 
means,'  'I  lied  like  truth,  but  still  most  truly  lied.'  I  told 
him  that  the  animal  was  entirely  beyond  her  control." 

"And  what  did  he  say  ?"  asked  Judge  Bearing. 

"He  said  that  he  was  glad  to  know  it,  and  added  that  he 
had  actually  risked  his  own  safety  in  order  to  shield  the 
young  lady." 

"Did  he  say  that?"  said  Julia.  "Well,  I  shall  tell  him 
how  very  sorry  I  am  that  I  was  guilty  of  such  unpardonable 
rudeness  to  a  poor  foreigner  like  himself." 

"Why  do  you  call  him  a  foreigner  ?"  asked  one  of  the  young 
ladies;  "he  looked  just  like  the  natives." 

"Well,  he  is  a  native  of  that  State,  but  this  State  is  an  inde- 
pendent sovereign  country  with  an  army — and  all  that — 
isn't  it,  Papa?" 

"It  is  a  lamentable  fact,  my  young  friends,  and  you  must 
hurry  to  your  rooms  and  dress  for  dinner.  After  dinner  it 
will  tire  you,  Julia,  to  supervise  the  illumination  of  the 
house.  The  'Star  of  the  West'  has  been  fired  upon,  and  the 
'shot  which  was  heard  around  the  world'  has  gone  forth  to 
herald  the  birth  of  a  new  nation.  It  has  been  decided  by  the 
people  generally  that  every  pane  of  glass  in  the  windows  in 


ETOWAH.  6 

every  house  in  town  shall  be  lighted.     In  two  hours  it  will 
be  dark,  and  just  at  dark  the  candles  are  to  be  lighted." 

*'0h,  we  are  to  have  sl  grand  surprise  party  !"  said  one  of  the 
visitors.  ''How  glad  I  am  that  we  got  here  in  time  to  par- 
ticipate in  this  spectacle.  Will  you  not  send  word  to  father, 
that  he  may  come  in  to  see  it  also?" 

"Certainly ;  do  so,  by  all  means,  Julia,"  said  her  father. 

Clara  Leslie,  with  her  father  and  brother  and  a  young  lady 
who  had  been  at  school  with  her  in  Geneva,  Switzerland, 
where  Colonel  Leslie  had  lived  for  the  past  two  years,  had 
arrived  home  that  day.  Her  father  and  brother  had  gone  on 
to  his  plantation  home,  "Thronateeska,"  three  miles  distant 
from  Etowah,  which  was  not  yet  prepared  for  the  reception 
of  the  young  ladies,  and  therefore  Julia  Bearing  had  planned 
this  sudden  invitation  to  her  cousin  and  her  friend.  The 
girls  easily  persuaded  Colonel  Leslie  to  give  his  assent,  and 
thus  the  gay  party  arrived  as  Julia's  guests. 

Later  Colonel  Leslie  and  his  son,  Hugh,  arrived  just  as 
the  cannon  sounded  the  signal  for  illuminating  the  city. 

In  an  instant  the  houses  gleamed  with  lights ;  the  streets 
and  squares  became  brilliant  with  bonfires  and  fire- works, 
which  recalled  to  the  returned  tourists  the  famous  Champs 
Ely  sees  in  Paris. 

Pedestrians  thronged  the  streets,  aod  young  men  flung 
their  Zouave  caps,  or  hats  adorned  with  cockades,  high  in 
the  air. 

Had  it  been  in  Paris,  this  day  of  hilarious  revolution  would 
have  been  ushered  in  with  bloodshed,  and  hired  claqueurs 
would  have  mounted  the  walls,  and  statues,  and  trees,  and 
led  the  populace  in  the  wild   cries  of   "  Vive  V  Empereurf 

But  in  this  distant  Southern  State  there  was  no  monarch 


4  ETOWAH. 

to  welcome  to  power,  no  ruler  to  overthrow,  and  no  personal 
animosities  to  gratify. 

It  seemed  absolutely  unanimous :  the  old  and  the  young, 
the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  high  and  the  humble,  the  slave 
and  the  free,  all  joined  in  the  carnival  of  enthusiasm. 

The  little  group  had  ascended  to  the  top  of  the  mansion, 
one  of  the  largest  and  finest  in  the  city,  and  Lad  a  fine  view 
of  the  whole  town. 

"Oh,  how  beautiful  it  is!"  said  Clara  Leslie,  full  of  the 
enthusiasm  of  a  girl  of  eighteen  years.  "Indeed,  it  is  prettier 
than  the  illumination  during  the  fetes  in  Parish 

"Is  it,  really?"  said  Julia.     "Oh!  how  I  do  long  to  visit 

foreign  lands." 

"Why,  Miss  Julia,"  said  Latane,  '^ou  boasted  this  after- 
noon that  you  had  visited  a  foreign  land." 

"And  so  we  did  when  we  crossed  the  river ;  but  this  is  not 
like  Europe,  and,  above  all,  it  is  not  like  Paris." 

"C'est  Men  vrai,  n'est  ce  pas,  ma  bien  aimee?"  said  Hugh 
Leslie,  as  he  looked  down  into  the  eyes  of  Nathalie  Blanc,  a 
lovely  daughter  of  one  of  the  oldest  Creole  families  in  New 

Orleans. 

"Oui,  Monsieur,  decidfement,"  she  answered. 

"What  are  you  two  talking  about?"  said  Julia  Dearing, 
who  had  just  heard  enough  to  know  that  they  were  speak- 
ing French. 

"  I  said  that  Paris  was  the  pupil  of  the  eye  of  the  world," 
said  Hugh,  not  wishing  to  reveal  what  he  had  said. 

"And  I  that  it  was  second  only  to  New  Orleans;  I  am 
always  loyal  to  my  home,"  responded  Miss  Blanc. 

"That  reminds  me  what  it  is  that  makes  this  scene  so 
brilliant  and  so  attractive  to  me :  it  is  because  it  beautifies 


ETOWAH.  b 

our  own  homes.     How  glad  I   shall  be  to  see  my  old  home 
again,"  said  Clara. 

"Home!  home!  sweet,  sweet  home!" 

"  '  The  dearest  spot  on  earth  to  me  is  home,'  "  said  Henry 
Latane,   humming   the   air. 

"  Oh !  do  let  us  sing  it,"  said  Julia,  and  in  a  moment  those 
clear  young  voices  sang  the  familiar  air  with  a  zest  that  was 
so  charming  that  Colonel  Leslie  and  Judge  Bearing  paused 
to  listen  until  it  was  finished  before  ascending  the  last  flight 
of  stairs  to  the  top  of  the  house.  This  house,  by  the  way, 
was  a  typical  Southern  home.  The  front  was  ornamented 
by  lofty  Ionic  columns  that  reached  to  the  roof,  and  a  broad 
veranda  ran  the  length  of  the  mansion.  It  contained  four- 
teen large  rooms,  with  wide  halls  on  every  floor,  but  the 
promenade  on  top  of  the  house  was  the  most  unique  and,  in 
summer,  the  most  delightful  feature. 

It  was  finished  throughout  in  hard  woods,  and  the  whole 
lower  floor  could  be  converted  into  a  ball-room  by  throwing 
back  the  massive  mahogany  sliding-doors. 

Hardly  had  they  ceased  singing  when  a  band  of  students 
appeared  in  the  square  below,  and  halted  on  the  lawn  which 
led  from  the  residence  of  Judge  Dearing  to  the  river. 

Then  Clara  Leslie  and  Nathalie  Blanc  heard  for  the  first 
time  the  stirring  strains  of  the  Southern  Marseillaise^  and, 
ere  they  knew  it,  they  had  caught  the  refrain  and  were  join- 
ing in  the  chorus : 

"In  Dixie's  land  I'll  take  my  stand 
And  live  and  die  in  Dixie." 

And  so  did  the  little  urchins  in  the  streets ;  and  so  did  the 
crowds  which  made  a  motley  assemblage,  until  the  whole 


6  ETOWAH. 

square  resounded  with  the  martial  air,  and  the  enthusiasm 
became  unbounded. 

Colonel  Leslie  turned  and  grasped  the  hand  of  the  vene- 
rable Judge  and  said : 

''  I  feel  as  if  I,  too,  could  throw  my  hat  in  the  air." 

Henry  Latane,  noticing  this,  said : 

"  Hugh,  do  you  intend  to  enter  the   Military  Institute 

again  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Father  and  I  were  talking  of  it  as  we 
drove  into  town  this  evening.  I  think  it  more  likely  that 
I  will  enter  the  army,"  said  Hugh.  "  And  you,  Latane, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  shall  return  to  the  Institute  in  a  few  days.  I  am  captain 
of  Company  B,  you  know,  and  should  report  promptly.  But,  I 
assure  you,  a  few  more  evenings  like  this  would  spoil  me  as 
a  cadet  and  induce  me  to  join  you  and  aid  in  making 
history." 

"  Who  is  captain  of  Company  C  ?  "  asked  Hugh. 

"  Barnum.     Do  you  remember  him  ?  " 

"  Very  well,  and  very  favorably.  A  better  fellow  I  never 
knew.  But,  if  my  memory  is  not  at  fault,  he  is  a  native  of 
New  York." 

"  You  are  correct,  and  I  agree  with  you  in  your  good  opin- 
ion of  him." 

"How  does  he  take  this  sort  of  thing?  "  said  Hugh,  wav- 
ing his  hand  toward  the  enthusiastic  groups  in  the  square 
and  in  the  streets  below  them. 

"  That  I  don't  know ;  no  one  does.  He  is  singularly  reti- 
cent ;  but  whatever  he  does,  he  does  well,  and  his  course  as 
to  the  war  will  be  animated  by  the  loftiest  sense  of  duty,  I 
do  not  doubt.' 


ETOWAH.  7 

In  a  few  moments  the  young  people  followed  the  elders 
and  were  gaily  talking  in  the  parlors. 

To  Colonel  Leslie's  remark  Judge  Dearing  only  replied  by 
a  profound  bow,  then  led  the  way  down  to  the  library. 

There  the  two  old  gentlemen  sat  and  talked  upon  the  im- 
pending issues,  while  ever  and  anon  bright,  merry  laughter 
echoed  from  the  parlors,  and  told  how  those  young  people 
were  enjoying  themselves  without  a  care  and  without  a 
sorrow. 

"  You  do  not  seem  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  occasion 
with  your  usual  zest.  Judge,"  remarked  his  guest. 

"No,  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  cannot.  I  have  sad  fore- 
bodings as  to  the  wisdom  of  Secession.  Indeed,  I  am  satis- 
fied that  it  is  a  mistake,  and  that  we  should  fight,  if  fight  we 
must,  within  the  Union.  But  to  form  a  new  government  is 
full  of  peril.  The  United  States  will  exhaust  every  resource 
before  consenting  to  disunion.  I  fear  a  long  and  bloody  war 
is  before  us." 

"  Have  you  any  doubts  as  to  the  constitutional  right  of 
this  State  to  secede  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest  as  to  this  State  or  any  of  the  original 
thirteen  colonies.  But  Louisiana  and  Florida,  for  example, 
were  bought  and  paid  for  by  the  government  of  the  United 
States.  They  have  only  what  the  ''  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence" calls  the  inalienable  right  of  revolution.  Have 
you  read  Captain  Maury's  letter,  written  to  the  Grand  Ad- 
miral of  Russia,  declining  the  home  and  princely  salary  of- 
fered him  by  Russia  ?  " 

"  No ;  have  you  it  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  will  read  it  to  you.  It  was  printed  in  this  morn- 
ing's paper,  and  gives  the  whole  story  as  to  the  right  of  the 
States  to  secede." 


8  ETOWAH. 

"  But  before  reading  Captain  Mfiury's  opinion,  let  me  say- 
again  that  secession  is  a  grievous  mistake.  What  have  we  to 
gain  by  this  proposed  change  of  our  relation  to  the  general 
government?*  We  have  had  sixty  years  of  Southern 
Presidents  to  their  twenty-four. 

''There  have  been  eighteen  Southern  Judges  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  while  the  North  has  had  but  eleven.  Although  nearly 
four-fifths  of  the  judicial  business  has  arisen  in  the  free  States, 
yet  a  majority  of  the  court  has  always  benn  from  the  South. 
In  choosing  the  presiding  officer  (pro  tern.)  of  the  Senate,  we 
have  had  twenty-four  and  they  eleven ;  Speakers  of  the 
House,  we  have  had  twenty-three  and  thf^y  twelve.  Attor- 
ney-Generals, we  have  had  fourteen  while  the  North  has  had 
butfive.  Foreign  Ministers,  we  have  had  eightv-six  and  they 
but  fifty- four.  We  have  had  a  majority  of  the  higher  officers 
of  the  army  and  navy. 

"No,  sir;  I  am  not  enthusiastic  about  it,  but  I  regard  it 
as  a  lamentable  mistake.  While  I  will  go  with  my  adopted 
State,  which  has  honored  me  beyond  my  deserts,  I  must  de- 
clare to  you,  as  I  have  often  done  before,  and  as  it  has  also 
been  declared  by  the  greatest  and  wisest  statesmen  and  pa- 
triots of  this  and  other  lands,  that  the  American  government 
is  the  best  and  freest  of  all  governments,  the  most  equal  in 
its  rights,  the  most  just  in  its  decisions,  the  most  lenient  in 
its  measures,  and  the  most  inspiring  in  its  principles  to  ele- 
vate the  race  of  men  that  the  sun  of  heaven  ever  shone 
upon." 

The  judge  then  read  the  following  letter : 

"  Richmond,  Virginia,  1861. 
"  Admiral — Your  letter  reached  me  only  a  few  days  ago. 
It  fills  me  with  emotions.     In  it  I  am  offered  the  hospitali- 

*See  Appendix. 


ETOWAH.  9 

ties  of  a  great  and  powerful  empire,  wi*.h  the  Grand  Admiral 
of  its  fleets  for  patron  and  friend.  Inducements  are  held  out, 
such  as  none  but  the  most  magnanimous  of  princes  could 
offer,  and  such  as  nothing  but  a  stern  sense  of  duty  may 
withstand.  A  home  in  the  bosom  of  my  family  on  the 
banks  of  the  Neva,  where,  in  the  midst  of  books  and  sur- 
rounded by  friends,  I  am  without  care  for  the  morrow,  to 
have  the  most  princely  means  and  facilities  for  prosecuting 
those  studies  and  continuing  those  philosophical  labors  in 
which  I  take  most  delight.  All  the  advantages  which  I  en- 
joyed in  Washington  are,  with  a  larger  discretion,  to  be  of- 
fered me  in  Russia.  Surely  a  more  flattering  invitation 
could  not  reach  a  more  grateful  heart. 

**  I  have  slept  upon  it.  It  is  becoming  that  I  should  be 
candid  and  in  a  few  words  frankly  state  the  circumstances 
by  which  I  find  myself  surrounded. 

*'  The  State  of  Virginia  gave  me  birth  within  her  borders; 
among  many  friends,  the  nearest  of  kin  and  troops  of  excel- 
lent neighbors  my  children  are  planting  their  vine  and  fig* 
tree;  on  her  green  bosom  are  the  graves  of  my  fathers;  the 
political  whirlpool  from  which  your  kind  forethought  sought 
to  rescue  me  has  already  drawn  her  into  a  fierce  and  bloody 
war. 

"  In  1778,  when  this  State  accepted  the  Federal  Constitu- 
tion and  entered  the  American  Union,  she  did  so  with  the 
formal  declaration  that  she  reserved  to  herself  the  right  to 
withdraw  from  it  for  cause,  and  resume  those  powers  and 
attributes  of  sovereignty  which  she  had  never  ceded  away, 
but  only  delegated  for  certain  definite  and  specific  purposes. 

"  When  the  President-elect  commenced  to  set  at  naught 
the  very  objects  of  the  Constitution,  and  without  the  au- 
thority of  law  proceeded  to  issue  his  proclamation  of  the  15th 


10  ETOWAH. 

of  April,  Virginia,  in  the  exercise  of  that  reserved  right,  de- 
cided that  the  time  had  come  when  her  safety,  her  dignity 
and  honor  required  her  to  resume  those  delegated  powers, 
and  withdraw  from  the  Union.     She  did  so. 

"  She  then  straightway  called  upon  her  sons  in  the  Federal 
service  to  retire  therefrom  and  come  to  her  relief. 

"This  call  found  me  in  the  midst  of  those  quiet,  physical  re- 
searches at  the  observatory  in  Washington,  which  I  am  now 
with  so  much  delicacy  of  thought  and  goodness  of  heart  in- 
vited to  resume  in  Russia.  Having  been  brought  up  in  the 
school  of  '  State  rights,'  where  we  had  for  masters  the  greatest 
statesmen  of  America,  and  among  them  Mr.  Madison,  the 
wisest  of  them  all,  I  could  not  and  did  not  hesitate.  I  recog- 
nized this  call,  considered  it  mandatory,  and  formally  re- 
nouncing all  allegiance  to  the  broken  Union,  hastened  over 
to  the  south  side  of  the  Potomac,  there  to  renew  to  father- 
land those  vows  of  fealty,  service  and  devotion  which  the 
State  of  Virginia  had  permitted  me  to  pledge  to  the  Federal 
Union,  so  long  only  as  by  serving  it  I  might  serve  her.  Thus 
my  sword  has  been  tendered  in  her  cause,  and  the  tender  has 
been  accepted.  Her  soil  is  invaded;  the  enemy  is  actually 
at  her  gates,  and  here  I  am,  contending,  as  the  fathers  of  the 
Republic  did,  for  the  right  of  self-government,  and  those  very 
principles  for  the  maintenance  of  which  Washington  fought 
when  this,  his  native  State,  was  a  Colony  of  Great  Britain. 

"  The  path  of  duty  and  honor  is  therefore  plain.  By  fol- 
lowing it  with  the  devotion  and  loyalty  of  a  true  sailor  I 
shall,  I  am  persuaded,  have  the  glorious  and  proud  recom- 
pense that  is  contained  in  the  '  well  done '  of  the  Grand 
Admiral  of  Russia  and  his  noble  companions  in  arms. 

"  When  the  invader  is  expelled,  and  as  soon  thereafter  as 
the  State  will  grant  me  leave,  I  promise  myself  the  pleasure 


ETOWAH.  11 

of  a  trip  across  the  Atlantic,  and  shall  hasten  to  Russia 
that  I  may  there  in  person,  on  the  banks  of  the  Neva,  have 
the  honor  and  pleasure  of  expressing  to  her  Grand  Admiral 
the  sentiments  of  respect  and  esteem  with  which  his  repeated 
acts  of  kindness  and  the  generous  encouragements  that  he 
has  afiforded  me  in  the  pursuits  of  science,  has  inspired  his 
obedient  servant,  Matthew  F.  Maury, 

"  Commander  Confederate  States  Navy. 

"  To  H.  R.  H.j  the  Grand  Duke  Constantine,  Grand  Admiral 
of  Russia,  St.  Petersburg.''^ 

*'  That  is  the  whole  of  it  in  a  nut-shell,"  said  Col.  Leslie, 
as  the  Judge  finished  reading,  ''and  the  leading  Republican 
editor  in  the  United  States,  Horace  Greeley,  agrees  with  Cap- 
tain Maury.  I  cut  this  out  of  the  newspaper  edited  by  Mr. 
Greeley,  and  it  fits  the  reasoning  of  Commander  Maury  to  a 
nicety."     And  then  he  read  the  following : 

"If  the  cotton  States  shall  become  satisfied  that  they  can  do  better 
out  of  the  Union  than  in  it,  we  insist  on  letting  them  go  in  peace. 

*'  If  the  Declaration  of  Independence  justifies  the  secession  from 
the  British  empire  of  three  millions  of  colonists  in  1776,  we  do  not 
see  why  it  would  not  justify  the  secession  of  five  millions  of  Southern- 
ers from  the  Federal  Union  in  1861. 

**  If  the  slave  States,  the  cotton  States  or  the  Gulf  States  only 
choose  to  form  an  independent  nation,  they  have  a  clear  moral  right 
to  do  so." 


12  ETOWAH. 


CHAPTER  ir. 

THE    TOURNAMENT. 

The  stand  at  the  race  course  was  throngred  with  lovely 
women  and  manly  men.  The  afternoon  was  delightful,  the 
warm  atmosphere  being  tempered  by  the  soft  spring  breezes 
that  caressed  the  cheeks  of  maidens,  whose  color  rivaled 
that  of  the  rose.  The  bright  blue  skies  were  relieved  by 
Alpine-like  cumulus  clouds,  which,  if  they  did  not  seem  to 
have  motion,  would  be  perfect  reproductions  of  the  snow- 
clad  peaks  amid  the  Alps.  The  last  race  is  finished,  and  at 
her  waist  hangs  the  trophy  won  by  Nathalie  Blanc  from 
Hugh  Leslie.  A  handkerchief,  on  which  was  embroidered 
an  ideal  flag  of  the  new  nation,  designed  and  executed  by 
Julia  Dearing,  with  only  three  stars  as  yet,  though  space 
was  left  for  a  dozen  more,  was  in  the  happy  possession  of 
Bruton  Stewart  as  an  evidence  of  his  success  in  betting  on 
Latane's  blooded  mare  against  his  own  thoroughbred,  which 
Julia  had  championed.  And  a  close  observer  might  have 
seen  the  shy,  sweet  glance  that  Clara  Leslie  gave  to  Latand 
as  he  received  from  Julia's  hand  the  little  curl  which  she 
clipped  from  the  wealth  of  hair — golden  and  luxuriant 
tresses  that  well  could  spare  it  — and  which  indicated  that 
he  had  won  the  rarest  prize  of  all.  At  least  Latane  so  con- 
sidered it,  for  he  said  : 

*'  I  shall  have  a  locket  made,  which  shall  be  the  shrine  for 
this"— 

*'  Love-lock,"  interrupted  Julia,  with  a  mischievous  smile- 

''No;  love-lock  is  purely  a  masculine  appendage,"  said 
Stewart.  "  It  was  worn  by  men  of  fashion  in  the  reign  of 
Queen  Elizabeth — worn  on  the  forehead,  not  on  the  heart. 


ETOWAH.  13 

Look  you !  Latane,  let  us  guard  our  rights  as  men,  and  rig- 
idiy  taboo  the  wearing  of  love-locks  by  the  fair,  sweet  sex." 

The  bugles  sounded  lor  the  "knights"  to  assemble  for  the 
tourney  as  this  speech  was  made,  and  Hugh  Leslie,  Latane 
and  Stewart,  with  a  dozen  other  young  gentlemen  from  va- 
rious parts  of  the  grand  stand,  bade  a  hasty  adieu  to  their 
young  lady  friends,  and  descended  to  enter  the  lists. 

A  dozen  young  ladies  might  have  been  seen  then  to  pin  a 
ribbon,  each  of  a  different  color,  and  each  contrasting  well 
with  the  dress  selected  for  this  occasion,  so  that  when  she 
arose,  her  ^'knight"  might  see  the  emblem  which  was  to 
cheer  him  to  victory.  And  now,  below  them,  "pools"  are 
being  sold  for  the  final  race  which  is  to  succeed  the  tourna- 
ment; for  all  the  elite  oi  the  county  is  there,  and  no  county 
in  America,  perhaps,  thus  distant  from  a  large  city,  could 
boast  of  horses  more  famed  for  pedigree  and  swiftness  than 
that  of  Etowah. 

Each  "knight"  was  required  by  the  club  rules  to  ride  his 
own  horse,  and  that  the  horse  should  be  of  a  well  known 
pedigree.  It  was  thus  that  they  kept  out  of  the  lists,  with- 
out giving  offense,  men  who  might  be  accomplished  riders 
but  were  not  of  their  "set."  Thus  in  the  middle  ages  the 
title  of  "knight"  or  ''cavalier"  was  limited  to  persons  of  no- 
ble birth.  A  light  mask  was  worn  by  each  knight,  and  an 
imitation  of  the  armor  worn  by  the  knights  of  old  was 
usually  worn  so  as  to  complete  the  disguise  and  render  the 
spectacle  more  attractive.  By  their  colors  they  were  known 
by  the  wearers  of  the  ribbons.  The  silver  tones  of  a  cornet 
announced  their  egress  from  the  round  house,  or  place  of 
assemblage,  and  the  prancing  steeds  seemed  eager  for  a  race 
around  the  course  rather  than  a  tilt  at  the  rings.  It  was 
indeed  a  pleasing  spectacle  as  they  rode  forth  and  passed  the 


14  ETOWAH. 

grand  stand,  each  "knight"  doffing  his  plumed  hat  as  he 
passed  the  lady  who  wore  his  colors. 

Stewart  was  recognized  by  his  great  stature  and  herculean 
strength,  and  the  applause  of  the  multitude  greeted  him 
as  he  rode  forth.  But  his  eyes  were  cast  to  where  Julia 
Dearing  sat,  and  he  waved  the  handkerchief  toward  her  as 
he  saw  her  pin  the  ribbon  to  her  dress. 

"  By  George !  Stewart,"  said  Latane,  ''  I  believe  you  have 
won  the  fight  already !" 

"  Not  so,  Latan^ ;  I  received  my  'walking  papers'  this 
morning,  but  I  am  going  to  win  this  contest,  crown  her  as 
queen  of  beauty,  and  shake  the  dust  of  this  State  from  my 
feet."  There  was  no  time  for  further  conversation ;  the 
bugles  sounded  the  charge,  and  away,  one  after  another,  the 
knights,  each  with  lance  well  poised,  dashed  for  the  twenty 
consecutive  rings. 

Eighteen  rings  were  on  the  lance  held  proudly  aloft  by 
Stewart,  as  he  approached  the  beginning  point,  and  cries  of 
''Hurrah  for  the  Halbardier!"  resounded. 

He  was  dressed  like  an  ancient  Halbardier,  and  his  lance 
was  very  like  the  halbard,  an  ancient  military  weapon,  con- 
sisting of  a  pole  or  shaft  of  wood,  having  a  head  armed  with 
a  steel  point,  with  a  cross-piece  of  steel. 

He  had  won  the  choice  of  position,  and  being  in  the  lead, 
had  taken  all  the  rings  but  two,  which  were  taken  by  the 
third  man  on  the  list,  a  "knight"  who  bore  the  name  "Un- 
known." Had  not  betting  on  the  results  of  the  tournament 
been  prohibited  by  the  rules  of  the  club,  a  large  amount 
would  have  been  placed  on  the  success  of  Stewart,  now  the 
general  favorite,  and  well  did  Julia  assume  the  role  allotted 
to  her,  though  in  her  heart  she  regretted  that  she  would 
probably  have  to  be  publicly  congratulated  on  being  crown- 


ETOWAH.  15 

ed  as  "queen  of  love  and  beauty"  by  the  gentleman  whom 
she  had  rejected  as  a  suitor  that  day. 

"  Etowah  Heights,"  his  ancestral  home,  was  the  finest  es- 
tate in  the  county,  and  Stewart  was,  in  all  respects,  worthy 
her  favorable  consideration. 

Her  vanity  was  flattered  by  his  persistent  decision  to  ap- 
pear to  be  her  devot^-d  admirer  until  he  left  with  his  troop 
for  "the  front,"  as  the  seat  of  probable  war  was  already  styled 
in  Virginia. 

The  fourth  knight  chose  as  his  device  "The  Talisman;" 
and  none  felt  its  significance  more  deeply  than  the  young 
girl  whose  tiny  lock  of  hair  had  in  two  hours  caused  him  to 
change  his  costume  and  title  that  he  might  adapt  himself  to 
the  incident. 

"  Count  Robert,  of  Paris,"  "  Ivanhoe,"  and  other  famous 
knights  of  the  middle  ages,  were  the  prototypes  selected  by 
the  various  competitors.  The  knight  who  bore  on  his  crest 
the  word  "Unknown"  was  Hugh  Le-lie,  who  was  thought  to 
be  still  abroad,  except  by  a  few  intimate  friends,  for  in 
those  days  the  arrival  or  departure  of  prominent  people  was 
not  chronicled  in  the  daily  gazette;  their  names  paraded 
side  by  side  with  that  of  the  family  baker  or  milliner,  anx- 
ious to  chronicle  their  departure  for  "  the  springs."  Nor 
were  the  minute  descriptions  of  the  dresses  of  the  belles  at 
parties  considered  proper  subjects  for  newspaper  criticism. 
They  were  trained  in  a  different  social  school,  and  were 
averse  to  "  staleir.g  their  presence  before  the  vulgar  herd." 
The  members  of  the  club  which  supported  the  race-course 
and  tournament  festivals  retained  for  the'r  families  the 
privilege  accorded  to  the  ancient  cavaliers,  that  of  occupy- 
ing during  the  races  or  public  sports  the  first  fourteen  tiers 
or  rows  of  seats.     The  cavaliers   of  the  middle  ages   alone 


16  ETOWAH. 

possessed  the  right  to  carry  a  banner,  and  to  appear  in  the 
tourneys  and  contest  for  the  prize ;  to  wear  gilded  armor 
and  a  collar  of  gold ;  to  place  a  vane  upon  their  manor 
houses ;  to  have  a  particular  seal  upon  their  coat  of-arms ; 
to  take  the  title  of  monseigneur,  and  their  wives  of  madaine. 
In  exchange  for  these  prerogatives,  they  swore  to  combat 
injustice  everywhere,  to  be  the  defenders  of  the  orphan  and 
the  widow,  and  to  obey  without  reserve  the  orders  of  their 
lady  or  of  their  king.  Thus  the  glorious  history  of  this  in- 
stitution during  the  crusades  in  the  Holy  Land ;  thus  the 
most  ameliorating  conditions  of  feudal  times;  thus  the  or- 
der of  the  Good  Templars,  the  Legion  of  Honor,  the  Hospi- 
tallers, and  the  "Sir  Knights,"  which  distinguish  the  mem- 
bers of  the  brotherhood  of  to-day  which  have  the  same  ob- 
jects in  view.  Originated  at  a  time  when  the  strong  hand 
was  the  only  law,  brave  men  took  upon  themselves  the  task 
of  protecting  the  weak  and  redressing  the  wrongs  of  the  in- 
jured. Women,  being  the  weakest  and  most  apt  to  sufifer 
wrong,  were  first  protected,  and  thus  courtesy  and  refine- 
ment were  blended  with  courage,  and  to  be  a  knight  was  to 
be  the  champion  of  the  oppressed.  But  chivalry  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  any  but  those  of  gentle  birth,  and  the  dogma 
that  ''all  men  are,  and  of  right  ought  to  be,  created  free  and 
equal,"  had  not  been  proclaimed.  A  knight  would  protect 
his  vassals  as  he  would  his  horse,  but  he  did  not  appreciate 
that  the  common  people  had  any  rights  if  opposed  to  his 
will. 

War  was  his  profession ;  trade  he  could  not  indulge  in 
without  forfeiture  of  his  social  position  and  his  feudal 
rights.  The  cha«e,  tournaments  and  other  sports,  which 
developed  manly  strength  and  courteous  courage,  were  his 
amusements.     Tournaments  were  held  under  the  auspices 


ETOWAH.  17 

of  the  King  or  a  great  noble,  and  were  attended  by  ladies 
who  bestowed  the  prizes  won  by  the  successful  combatants. 
Again  the  bugles  sound,  and  awa}^  the  contestants  go,  the 
"  Halbardier"  now  in  the  rear  and  Hugh  Leslie  in  front,  and 
as  they  approach  the  stand  it  is  seen  that  seventeen  rings 
grace  his  lance,  and  the  "  Unknown  "  is  cheered  vociferously. 
Nathalie  Blanc  has  arisen  from  her  seat,  and  claps  her 
hands  as  nhe  sees  her  knight  take  ring  after  ring,  but  her 
pleasure  is  moderated  when  she  learns  that  he  lacks  one 
ring  of  being  equal  to  Stewart.  "  Oh !  Julia,  I  fear  you 
have  won  !"  she  said. 

Again  the  bugles  sound,  and  with  a  grace  that  is  marked 
by  all,  Latan^  leads.  A  shout  that  makes  the  stand  tremble 
arises,  as  the  graceful  youth  holds  his  lance  aloft  and  it  is 
seen  that  he  has  taken  every  ring. 

One  after  one,  they  all  essay  again  until  the  time  for  the 
final  eflfort  of  the  young  giant,  Stewart,  arrives.  For  the 
second  time  he  advances,  and  after  him  comes  no  other. 
Thirty-eight  rings  stand  to  the  credit  of  Latand,  for  only 
two  were  taken  by  his  predecessors  in  the  last  run,  and  he 
secured  all  the  rest. 

The  tilt  is  between  Latant^  and  Stewart.  In  his  excite- 
ment Stewart  has  let  fall  his  mask,  and  few  are  as  popular 
as  he  in  the  county.  People  rise  on  their  feet,  heads  are 
bent  forward  and  eyes  are  strained  to  see  the  champion 
make  his  final  thrust.  In  unison  with  the  crowd  around 
them,  our  young  friends  also  arose,  and  when  it  is  seen  that 
the  most  fearless  equestrienne  and  the  handsomest  girl  in 
the  county.  Miss  Julia  Dearing,  wears  his  colors,  the  excite- 
ment increases,  and  murmurs  of  admiration  are  heard. 

"  What  a  handsome  couple  they  will  make !"  is  the  re- 
mark. 

Bruton  Stewart,  a  proud  smile  upon  bis  lips,  rides  for- 

2 


18  ETOWAH. 

ward,  stops  for  a  moment  just  below  the  group  in  which 
Miss  Bearing  is  the  central  figure,  lifts  his  hat  and  bows 
with  that  grace  for  which  West  Point  grarluates  have  be- 
come famous.  With  irresistible  impulse  Julia  Dearing  un- 
pins the  ribbon  and  waves  it  to  him. 

In  a  moment  he  is  off,  and  voices  cry,  "One !"  "  two! !" 
"  three ! ! !"  and  so  on,  until  the  fifteenth  ring  is  reached,  as 
the  people  count  as  he  secures  each  ring.  Surely  he  will 
win !  The  sympathy  of  the  spectators  is  with  the  superb 
young  cavalry  leader,  who  returned  but  a  month  ago  from 
West  Point,  and  already  has  organized  a  cavalry  regiment 
and  will  leave  next  week  for  Virginia. 

"Hurrah!"  "  Hurrah!"  resounds  on  every  side,  as  fast  as 

he  takes  the  rings. 

Julia  Dearing  is  excited  as  she  never  was  before.  Exult- 
ing in  his  success,  she  could  not  help  admiring  the  superb, 
reckless,  daring  and  graceful  carriage  of  her  champion,  and 
she  began  to  wonder  if  she  had  not  made  a  mistake  in  re- 
jecting so  gallant  a  cavalier.  But  could  she  have  seen  the 
proud,  scornful  look  upon  his  face,  she  would  have  realized 
that  no  effort  could  ever  again  make  Bruton  Stewart  a  sup- 
pliant for  her  favor. 

It  was  the  look  of  a  man  who  scorned  the  very  success  he 
was  achieving  in  securing  these  harmless  rings;  it  was  the 
look  of  a  man  who  courts  death  in  battle;  it  was  the  look  of 
a  herculean  ''  Front  de-Boeuf." 

What  means  the  sudden  hush— then  the  scream  as  Julia 
sees  the  horse  stumble,  fall,  and  Bruton  Stewart  thrown 
headlong  and  senseless  on  the  ground.  The  horse,  in  at- 
tempting to  rise,  leaped  upon  the  prostrate  form. 

"  Give  him  air !  Don't  crowd  around  him !"  cried  Latan^, 
the  first  to  reach  his  side,  and  a  moment  later  Julia  Dearing 
was  also  at  his  side. 


CHAPTER  III.     . 

AU    CLAIR    DE     LUNE. 

Fortunately  Bruton  Stewart  had  been  only  stunned,  and, 
as  no  bones  were  broken,  his  robust  constitution  enabled 
him  to  re-join  his  command  in  a  reasonable  time. 

While  he  could  ill  brook  such  a  rejection  as  he  had  re- 
ceived, yet  that  social  training  which  keeps  in  the  foreground 
the  tenets  of  chivalry  bade  him  bear  his  disappointment 
without  one  word  of  censure  or  one  inconsiderate  expression 
concerning  the  innocent  author  of  it.  It  made  him  a  reck- 
less, gallant  soldier,  eager  to  participate  in  the  clash  of  arms 
which  was  now  at  hand.  And  sentiment,  he  vowed,  should 
no  more  be  indulged  in  by  him. 

Julia,  as  soon  as  she  discovered  that  he  was  not  seriously 
hurt,  was  the  gayest  of  the  trio,  and  no  one  could  extort  an 
expression  showing  that  she  felt  any  further  interest  in 
Bruton  Stewart.  A  few  days  later,  as  they  were  promenad- 
ing along  the  piazza,  a  negro  youth  dismounted  at  the  gate 
and  approached  them.  Taking  off  his  hat  and  politely  hand- 
ing Julia  a  note,  he  said:  "With  Marse  Henry's  compli- 
ments, Miss  Bearing."  Opening  and  reading  it,  Julia  ex- 
claimed : 

"It  is  an  invitation  to  a  moonlight  picnic ;  what  do  you 
sa}^,  girls,  shall  we  accept  it  ?" 

■'  By  all  means,  if  papa  will  consent  that  we  shall  do  so," 
answered  Clara  Leslie. 

'•What  is  a  moonlight  picnic?"  asked  Nathalie  Blanc. 
"You  must  pardon  my  ignorance,  but  half  of  my  life,  you 
know,  has   been  passed    abroad;   and   young  girls  are  not 


20  ,  ETOWAH. 

allowed  to  attend  picnics  with  young  gentlemen,  even  in  the 
day  timp,  in  Switzerland.  " 

*'  What  a  horrid  country  it  must  be !"  said  Julia.  "  Now, 
I  think,  if  you  strike  out  of  a  girl's  life  the  delishtlul  pleas 
un  s  of  social  life,  as  we  know  it  here,  from  eighteen  ye.irs 
until  one  is  married,  wh3%  you  would  strike  out  the  btjst  part 
of  it.  A  moonlight  picnic  is  as  far  superior  to  any  other 
picnic  as  a  debut  party  is  to  an  ordinary  party." 

"  Well,  none  of  us,  I  believe,  has  had  her  debut  party  as 
yet;  and  it  seems  to  me" — 

'Somewhat  previous,"  su,srgested  Julia,  as  Miss  Blanc  hes- 
itated, "'putting  the  cart  before  the  horse,'  and  so  forth. 
Well,  I  dare  say  you  are  right.  We  will  just  leave  it  to 
papa  and  Colonel  Leslie  to  decide."  This  w^as  said  just 
as  the  three  girls  approached  the  two  old  gentlemen,  who 
were  pleasantly  conversing. 

"Who  is  going,  my  daughter,  and  where  is  it  to  be?" 
asked  Judge  Bearing. 

"Except  Mr.  Stewart,  we  are  to  have  the  same  escorts  that 
we  had  at  the  tournament.  Mrs.  Latane  will  be  our  chape- 
ron, and  it  is  to  be  given  on  the  club-grounds  to  Magnolia 
Island." 

"Then  let  them  go,  Colonel ;  they  could  not  go  under  bet- 
ter auspices." 

"  It  is  astonishing,"  said  Hugh  Leslie  to  Nathalie  Blanc, 
"  how  quickly  one  adapts  himself  to  his  surroundings.  When 
in  the  beautiful  Alps  I  wished  the  months  to  lengthen 
into  years  ;  when  studying  the  treasures  in  the  art  galleries 
in  Germany  and  Italy,  I  thought  that  I  could  spend  years 
thus  in  that  delightful  study.  And  now,  after  two  weeks' 
frolicking  at  home,  I  am  a  good  American  again,  and  all 
thoughts  of  study  have  been  blotted  out  for  the  time  being.'* 


ETOWAH.  21 

"  That  is  true  as  to  gentlemen,  I  suppose,"  replied  Miss 
Blanc;  "but  I  have  lived  so  long  in  Europe  — since  my 
tenth  year,  in  fact — that  I  cannot  so  easily  conform  to  some 
social  customs." 

"  For  instance  ?"  suggested  Hugh. 

"  For  instance,  this  ride  by  moonlight  with  you.  Noth- 
ing would  seem  so  shocking  to  dear  Mademoiselle  Lobereau, 
my  teacher  in  Geneva.  In  no  country  in  Europe  could  I 
do  so  without  violating  social  ethics." 

"  The  more's  the  pity,"  he  replied.  "  We  '  outside  barba- 
rians '  are  a  law  unto  ourselves  in  social  matters.  But  our 
people  seem  as  well-bred  as  Europeans,  and  our  women,  as 
a  rule,  are  more  refined  and  modest." 

"  It  all  seems  novel,  strange  and  charming  to  me,  of  course, 
for  I  am  with  you;  but  in  truth,  Mr.  Leslie,  it  don't  seem 
exactly  proper  to  me." 

"  Well,  if  you  say  so  we  will  immediately  return,  but  we 
will  have  to  pass  all  the  carriages,  as  our  carriage  is  in  the 
lead,  and  every  one  will  surmise  that  we  disapprove  of  a 
custom  as  innocent  as  it  is  agreeable.  Besides,  we  have 
reached  the  bridge  that  leads  to  Magnolia  Island,  and— the 
night  is  glorious." 

"Oh!  no;  I  don't  wish  to  be  conspicuous  or  to  seem  to 
be  hypercritical.  It  is  only  poor  little  I  whom  it  afiects  so, 
and  I  suppose  it  is  due  to  my  education." 

Hugh  laughed — a  rarely  musical  laugh  was  his,  and  clear 
as  a  lute.  "  I  remember,"  said  he,  "  the  espionage  that  your 
teacher  used  to  keep  over  your  movements,  and  the  difficulty 
I  had  in  securing  even  a  momentary  chat  with  you  alone  in 
the  parlor  at  your  school  in  Geneva.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
Clara's  diplomacy,  I  don't  believe  that  I  ever  would  have  had 
an  opportunity  to  tell  you  how  completely  you  had  won  my 


22  ETOWAH. 

heart.     I  vowed  then  if  we  ever  met  in  America  to  get  even 
by  utilizing  our  delightful  social  freedom  to  the  utmost." 

"  Well,  I  think  you  have  succeeded,  for  this  moonlight 
drive  is — " 

"  Delicious,"  he  interrupted,  and  just  then  the  carriage 
stopped,  the  well-dressed  negro  servant  threw  open  the  door, 
and  they  descended  at  the  pavilion. 

Rapidly  other  carriages  followed  until  a  hundred  people 
were  present. 

The  moonlight  picnic  resembled  the  ordinary  evening  par- 
ties, except  that  dancing  was  indulged  in  in  the  open  air  on 
a  platform  built  for  the  occasion,  which  was  as  smooth  and 
as  even  as  any  ball-room  floor  need  be. 

"What  large  building  is  that  up  the  avenue,  Mr.  Leslie?" 

"  That  is  our  club-house;  what  the  Germans  call  conver- 
sationhaus  at  Baden-Baden." 

"  I  hope  it  is  not  modeled  after  that  place." 

"  Oh  !  no ;  there  are  no  roulette  tables  or  rouge-et-noir  tables, 
and  no  gambling  of  any  kind  is  permitted  on  this  island. 
Would  you  like  to  promenade  ?  " 

"Yes,  if  you  please.  This  is  delightful,  Mr.  Leslie.  I  did 
not  expect  to  see  so  gay  a  scene ;  it  is  more  Parisian  than 
American,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  say  that ;  but  the  island  is  the  property  of 
the  club,  and  it  combines  many  advantages." 

Along  the  promenades  they  passed  and  re-passed  many 
happy  couples  who  seemed  as  appreciative  as  they  were. 

It  was  indeed  a  lovely  scene.  The  island  seemed  a  pyra- 
mid of  vegetation  at  a  distance,  the  effect  of  the  large  white 
magnolia  flowers  amid  green  foliage  being  exceptionally 
striking. 

They^ascended  terrace  after  terrace,  passed  through  a  grove 


ETOWAH.  23 

of  pomegranate,  orange,  citron  and  myrtle  trees,  and  stopped 
before  a  huge  cactus. 

"  Why,  these  are  tropical  trees,  are  they  not  ?  How  do 
they  protect  them  in  winter?" 

"  Just  as  they  do  at  the  Isola  Bella  in  the  Lago  Maggiore," 
he  answered ;"  stoves  are  heated  beneath  them;  but  orange 
trees  grow  here  naturally.  We  have  made  the  Isola  Bella 
our  model  in  adorning  this  island." 

As  they  turned  to  view  the  scene  below  them  the  Chinese 
lanterns  were  lighted  along  the  promenades,  and  pine  knot 
fires,  on  stands  erected  for  the  purpose,  illuminated  the 
avenues. 

''  The  glory  of  this  isle  is  in  its  fountains,"  he  added ;  "they 
embellish  it  on  every  hand." 

"  It  is  beautiful !  beautiful !  "  she  answered. 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Hugh,  "and  with  the 
writer,  Matthews,  Tvho  pronounces  it  'a  magic  creation  of 
labor  and  taste — a  fairy  land  which  might  have  served  as  a 
model  for  the  Garden  of  Calypso.' " 

They  walked  in  silence  for  a  few  moments ;  then  he  said : 

"  There  must  be  something  peculiarly  exhilarating  in 
dancing  au  clair  de  lune.'*^ 

"  Why  do  you  say  that?"  she  replied. 

"Look  at  Latan  and  Miss  Julia  Bearing  and  you  will  see 
why  the  word  "lunatic"  was  invented.  It  is  derived  from 
Zuna,  the  moon,  and  if  Latane  is  not  '  moon-struck,' then 
I'm  a  Dutchman." 

"  What  an  idea !  I  had  never  thought  of  the  derivation, 
but  is  it  really  true  ?" 

"Yes,  the  ancients  gave  the  name  lunatic  to  every  one  who 
submits  to  che  influence  of  the  moon;  and  I  repeat,  Latan6 


1 


24  ETOWAH, 

is  '  moon-struck'  and  is  as  submissive  to  Miss  Julia  Dearing 
as  if  she  was  some  skillful  magnetizer  and  he  her  sujet.^' 

"  And  I  say,"  she  replied,  ''  that  Mr.  Latane  is  not  in  love 
with  Julia,  but  is  in  love  with  Clara  Leslie." 

"  Is  that  so  ?"     Why,  I  never  suspected  that.''' 

"  Where  have  your  eyes  been  these  past  two  weeks !  It  is 
as  plain  as  daylight." 

"  To  the  best  of  my  knowledge  they  have  been  concen- 
trated upon  the  most  beautiful  and  lovable  vision  on  earth, 
carissima  mia;  that  is  as  plain  as  moonlight,"  he  answered, 
looking  down  into  her  face,  which  was  now  blushing  with 
happiness. 

"  Really,  Nathalie,"  he  continued,  "  when  you  are  near  I 
have  not  eyes  even  for  my  sweet,  gentle  sister,  whom  I  love 
next  to  yourself." 

A  smile  inexpressibly  confiding  rewarded  this  speech. 
Then  she  said  : 

"  Do  you  know,  I  hope  Clara  will  learn  to  reciprocate  Mr. 
Latan6's  attachment,  do  not  you  ?" 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  wish  any  man  to  steal  her  affections 
from  us.  But  I  will  say  that  Henry  Latane  comes  nearer 
being  my  ideal  of  a  gentleman  than  any  man  of  my  ac- 
quaintance. Yes,  if  Clara  loved  him,  I  would  most  assured- 
ly approve  of  an  engagement.  I  am  glad  that  Bruton  Stew- 
art is  not  here  to-night,"  he  added. 

"  Why  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  his  presence  is  the  one  thing 
lacking  to  make  this  a  perfect  evening.  Julia  has  seemed  to 
me  to  be  a  little  distrait  all  the  evening,  and  I  have  thought 
it  must  be  owing  to  the  absence  of  that  handsome  cavalry 
officer." 

"  You  don't  know  my  cousin  well  yet,  and  you  can  hardly 
know  Bruton  Stewart  if  you  think  that  either  of  them  wou 


ETOWAH.  25 

evince  any  concern  about  the  other  so  long  as  matters  are 
uncertain  between  them." 

"  Was  he  severely  hurt  ?" 

"By  Julia,  yes;  by  his  horse,  no.  She  rejected  him  the 
morning  of  the  day  he  was  thrown  from  his  horse,  and  he 
and  she  are,  beyond  doubt,  the  two  proudest  people  I  have 
ever  known." 

'^  Has  he  entirely  recovered?" 

"  From  the  fall,  yes;  from  the  shock  to  his  amour-propre^ 
no ;  and  I  don't  think  he  ever  will  forgive  her." 

"Forgive  her?  Why  what  crime  has  she  committed? 
How  can  Mr.  Stewart  have  anything  to  forgive?" 

"  He  feels  that  she  flirted  with  him  and  he  has  been  fa- 
mous at  West  Point  as  the  greatest  '  catch  '  in  the  cadet 
corps  there.  Many,  many  scheming  mammas,  it  is  said,  have 
soughc  the  acquaintance  of  the  handsomest  man  in  the 
United  States  Military  Academy,  and  he  could  have  married 
one  great  heiress  and  charming  girl,  I  know." 

"Then  you  and  Mr.  Stewart  have  been  intimate  friends  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  are  so  still,  though  I  have  never  had  many  in- 
timates." 

"  And  you  don't  like  him  now  ?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  like  and  admire  him  more  than  I 
ever  did.  He  is  the  soul  of  honor,  but  he  would  not  make 
Miss  Julia  happy." 

"  Why  ?  It  seems  to  me  if  a  girl  loves  truly  she  cannot 
help  beingj  happy." 

He  rewarded  this  speech  with  a  gentle  pressureof  the  hand 
that  rested  on  his  arm  and  a  look  that  spoke  volumes. 

"Yes,  it  is  a  peculiarly  blessed  arrangement  by  which  prov- 
idence blinds  the  sweetest  of  women  to  the  most  glaring 
faults  of  the  men  whom  they  love.     But  Bruton  Stewart  is 


26  ETOWAH. 

proud,  haughty  and  imperious.  So  is  Julia.  His  is  a  very 
jealous  nature" 

"  And  Julia's  is  not,"  interrupted  his  fiancee;  "  she  is  the 
most  generous  and  the  most  unselfish  girl  I  ever  knew." 

''  Granted;  but  nature  made  her  a  coquette,  and  she  may 
try  ever  so  much  to  be  otherwise,  and  she  can't  help  attract- 
ing admiration.  Now,  to  see  another  man  giving  her  soci- 
ety a  decided  preference,  and  evincing  the  admiration  which 
she  so  generdlly  excites,  would  hs  the  gall  of  wormwood  to 
my  jealous  friend,  Stewart,  and  he  would  be  sure  to  do 
something  rash." 

''  That  would  be  very  trying  to  one's  nerves ;  very  provok- 
ing," she  answered. 

"  But  you  don't  think  he  would  fight  a  duel  about  her,  do 
you  ?" 

'^Certainly,  as  quickly  as  the  dropping  of  a  hat  if  he 
thought  there  was  any  occasion  for  it.  But  that  is  not 
likely,  as  he  left  yesterday  to  join  his  regiment  in  Virginia; 
and  I  believe  he  went  a  week  before  the  appointed  time,  to 
avoid  attending  this  picnic,  that  he  might  not  be  thrown 
in  her  presence  again." 

Gay  groups  were  chatting  here  and  there  while  the  hand 
played  enlivening  airs,  and  occasionally  a  couple  would  take 
their  places  on  the  platform  and  join  the  waltzers  there. 
The  platform  was  not  covered,  and  they  danced  by  th^  light 
of  the  moon.  Indeed,  there  were  no  other  lights  except  the 
pine-knot  fires  along  the  main  avenue  and  the  Chin*  se  lan- 
terns suspended  from  the  branches  of  the  trees  along  the 
more  secluded  paths.  And  now  the  last  hour  was  approach- 
ing. Clara  Leslie's  musical  talent  was  known  to  be  highly 
cultivated,  and  she  was  asked  to  sing  a  song  composed  by 
one  of  the  club  in  honor  of  the  place  selected  for  their  club- 


ETOWAH.  27 

hou?e  and  picnic  grounds.  A  guitar  was  handed  to  her, 
and  silence  succeeded  the  festive  sounds  as  she  sang  the  fol- 
lowing : 

The  moving  clouds  with  mantle  gray- 
Float  peacefully,  onward,  away; 
And  'neath  thy  surface,  flashing  bright, 
Gleam  stars  like  diamonds  of  the  night. 
Flow,  rio,  flow  !  away  !  away  ! 
Haste  onward  to  the  rolling  sea  ! 

Behold  the  sheen  from  fleecy  fold 
Flash  in  the  stream  like  wan  of  gold, 
And  'joy  the  moonbeam's  dancing  quiver, 
Gilding  the  wavelets  of  the  river; 
Flow,  rio,  flow!  away!  away! 
Roll  onward  to  the  deep  blue  sea. 

The  earth  is  covered  o'er  with  green, 
And  moonlit  sky  is  soft,  serene, 
Where  countless  stars  with  silvery  light 
Kindle  the  pathless  dome  of  night; 
Flow,  rio,  flow !  away !  away  ! 
Mingle  thy  currents  with  the  sea. 

The  great  Magnolia's  flowers  glow 
To-night,  like  lilies,  white  as  snow  ; 
The  breeze  is  sweet  with  perfumes  rare 
That  laden  this  soft  southern  air. 
Would,  would  that  I  could  ever  view 
Thy  dimpled  stream— rio,  adieu  ! 

The  gue?ts  crowded  around  to  congratulate  the  young 
musician,  who  had  acquitted  herself  remarkably  well. 

"  Clara,  I  declare  I  am  proud  of  you  !"  said  Nathalie  Blanc. 

"  And  I  will  echo  Miss  Nathalie's  speech,"  said  her  brother. 

"I  envy  you  your  success,  and  am  so  glad  that  you  came," 
said  Julia,  as  she  pressed  her  cousin's  hand  affectionately. 


28  ETOWAH. 

But  Latane  was  not  to  be  seen ;  after  the  congratulations 
were  over,  however,  he  was  seen  coming  slowly  from  the 
spring,  his  mother  being  his  companion.  He  reached  the 
group  just  as  Nathalie  Blanc  said  :  "  Now,  Julia,  I  have  a 
favor  to  ask  which  I  know  will  shock  you  — I  am  amazed  at 
myself  for  asking  it — but — is  the  author  of  that  song  pres- 
ent?" 

Julia,  looking  at  the  group  of  gentlemen  in  the  vicinity, 
after  a  pause  answered  :    ''  Yes,  shall  I  present  him  ?" 

''Yes ;  that  is  the  request  I  intended  to  make." 

"  Mr.  Latane,"  said  Julia,  ''let  me  introduce  to  you  Miss 
Nathalie  Blanc,  who  requests  a  second  introduction." 

''  Indeed !"  said  Miss  Blanc.  "  Did  you  compose  that 
song?  I  congratulate  you  and  the  club,"  she  said,  with 
unfeigned  enthusiasm.  ''But,  indeed,  you  are  the  last  per- 
son I  should  have  suspected  of  poetic  accomplishment." 

It  was  evident  that  Clara  Leslie  was  equally  surprised 
and  equally  pleased  to  learn  that  her  escort  had  composed 
the  song.  Was  it  prophetic  of  good  or  evil  that  such  an  un- 
looked-for circumstance  should  have  happened?  She  had 
learned  the  song  the  week  before,  and  had  done  so  at  the 
suggestion  of  another  member  of  the  club,  whose  scholarly 
attainments  were  generally  recognized,  and,  in  common 
with  others,  she  thought  that  he  was  the  author.  He  sang 
exquisitely,  but  he  had  none  of  the  dashing  spirit  of  adven- 
ture that  seemed  to  characterize  Latand.  He  was  not  at  the 
Island  on  this  evening  and,  hence,  Clara  felt  freer  than  she 
would  have  done  had  the  supposed  author  been  present. 
The  glance  of  reproof  which  Latan^  gave  to  Julia  Bearing 
was  softened  to  an  approving  smile  as  he  saw  the  radiant 
face  of  Clara  Leslie, 


ETOWAH.  29 

While  no  further  reference  was  made  to  the  incident,  there 
seemed  between  these  two  a  tacit  understanding  which 
needed  no  words  to  interpret.  A  half  hour  later  the  party 
returned  to  the  city. 

The  river  in  places  was  broad  and  almost  as  i^lacid  as  a  lake, 
and  then  the  many  islands  and  the  rocks  jutting  out  from 
the  stream,  narrowed  it  until  it  became  a  rushing  flood  of 
waters,  casting  high  the  white  spray.  The  moon  lighted  the 
scene  all  the  way,  for  the  road  through  the  forest  ran  along- 
side or  above  the  river  until  it  reached  Etowah.  This 
beautiful  drive  revealed  a  series  of  lovely  scenes,  each  as 
charming  as  a  landscape  of  Claude  Lorraine  ;  and  the  joyous 
spirits  that  enlivened  the  unbroken  forest  with  that  essence 
of  conversation,  "small  talk,''  were  unconscious  of  any  im- 
propriety in  thus  attending  this  fete  champetre.  The  woods 
were  fragrant  with  flowers,  and  here  and  there  the  white- 
flowered  "dog-wood"  clusters  seemed  in  the  moonlight  like 
figures  created  by  the  wand  of  enchantment.  And  the 
silence  of  the  streets  was  enlivened  by  merry  voices  as  they 
drove  through  the  city  to  Judge  Dearing's  residence. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    TRAMONTANE    ORDER. 

"He  gathered  round  him  noble  men, 

Brave,  daring,  kind  and  true ; 
He  dubbed  them  knight,  and  gave  to  each 

A  badge — a  gold  horse-shoe. 
And  bound  them  with  a  mighty  oath, 
Leigenien  to  king  and  country  both." 

In  the  stately  mansion  at  Chestatee  might  be  seen  the 
family  chart  which  traced  the  lineage  of  the  family  without 
a  break  in  the  line  for  six  centuries.  The  most  noted  among 
Henry  Latane's  early  ancestors  was  Jacques  de  Latane,  who 
was  martyred  A.  D.  1563. 

The  family  chronicles  state  that  this  Jacques  de  Latane 
was  born  in  the  Province  of  Maine,  near  the  borders  of  Nor- 
inand}^  in  the  year  1500.  As  soon  as  he  was  old  enough  to 
bear  arms,  his  father  procured  him  a  commission  in  the 
household  of  the  king,  Francis  I.,  in  what  was  then  called 
''  Les  Ordonnances  du  Roi."  He  retained  his  command,  not 
only  to  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Francis  I.,  but  during  the 
reigns  of  Henry  II.,  Francis  II.  and  until  the  second  year 
of  Charles  IX.,  when  he  voluntarily  resigned.  He  had  become 
a  convert  to  Protestantism  on  the  first  preaching  of  the  re- 
formed religion  in  France  in  1535.  His  influence  with  the 
king  gave  him  the  means  of  showing  kindness  to  his  Pro- 
testant brethren,  and  he  frequently  shielded  them  from  op- 
pression. He  was,  therefore,  much  beloved  by  his  brother 
officers,  by  the  men  under  his  command  and  by  the  ten- 
antry on  his  estate. 


ETOWAH.  31 

He  was  a  witness  to  the  horrible  persecutions  to  which  the 
Huguenots  were  subjected  between  the  years  1534  and  1563, 
and  had  participated  in  their  struggles  until,  the  Constable 
Montmorency  being  a  prisoner  and  the  Duke  of  Guise  slain, 
favorable  terms  were  granted  to  the  Huguenot  leader,  Co- 
ligny. 

Believing  himself  and  the  Huguenots  protected  by  this 
Edict  of  Pacification  in  1562,  he  retired  to  his  paternal  es- 
tates in  Maine  to  end  his  days  in  peace.  But  his  elevated 
position  and  his  staunch  adherence  to  the  new  reformed 
faith  made  him  a  marked  man,  and  it  was  judged  expedient 
to  get  rid  of  such  a  leader. 

In  the  year  1563  a  number  of  ruffians  were  dispatched 
from  the  city  of  Le  Maus  to  attack  his  house  at  night.  He 
was  taken  by  surprise,  dragged  out  of  his  house  and  his  throat 
cut. 

Thus  the  blood  of  martyrs  flowed  in  the  veins  of  young 
Henry  de  Latane,  who.  looked  like  a  worthy  scion  of  noble 
stock. 

The  earliest  days  of  the  "  Old  Dominion  "  found  a  de  La- 
tan^  on  the  staff  of  Lord  Spottswood  when  he  discovered  the 
valley  of  Virginia,  in  commemoration  of  which  event  he 
created  the  Tramontane  Order,*  and  made  Lieutenant  Henry 
de  Latand  a  "Knight  of  the  Golden  Horse-Shoe."  Since  the 
year  1713,  the  de  Latand  family  had  been  in  Virginia,  John 

♦Lord  Spottsword,  during  his  expedition  across  the  Blue  Ridge,  instituted  the 
order  known  as  "The  Tramontane  Order."  The  badge  of  this  order  was  a 
golden  horse-shoe.  See  Dr.  Slaughter's  history  of  St.  Mark's  Parish,  Virginia. 
It  is  a  historic  fact  that  the  first  party  of  white  men  who  ever  crossed  the  Blue 
Ridge  were  these  "knights  of  the  golden  horse-shoe,"  and  that  they  passed 
through  what  is  now  known  as  the  Swift  Run  Gap.  This  highway  was  opened  by 
order  of  King  George  III.  in  1764.  See  Acts  of  the  Assembly  of  the  colony  of  Vir- 
riaia. 


32  ETOWAH. 

de  Latane,  an  officer  in  the  English  army,  having  been  sent 
out  to  purchase  a  plantation  in  such  situation  as  he  judged 
would  prove  most  advantageous.  He  landed  in  Virginia, 
traveled  through  that  Colony,  as  well  as  through  Maryland, 
Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey,  to  the  town  of  New  York. 
He  concluded  that  Virginia  presented  the  most  desirable  cir- 
cumstances, all  things  considered,  and  purchased  a  planta- 
tion, which  is  owned  bv  one  of  his  descendants  to  this 
day. 

In  France,  under  the  ancien  regime,  an  individual  of  noble 
family  could  not  engage  in  trade  or  the  mechanic  arts  without 
forfeiting  his  claim  to  nobility.  Hence,  the  de  Latane  fam- 
il}^  being  forced  by  confiscation  and  exile  to  earn  their  living, 
when  the\'  became  citizens  of  Virginia  ceased  to  use  the  pre- 
fix *'de,"  the  indication  of  the  ancient  nobility  of  the  family. 

No  lawyer  in  the  State  had  a  more  brilliant  future  before 
him  than  did  the  father  of  Henry  Latane  when  he  was 
killed  leading  his  regiment  in  the  charge  at  Cherubusco, 
Mexico.  He  displayed  conspicuous  gallantry  at  San  Anto- 
nio, Cherubusco,  Molino  del  Rey  and  the  City  of  Mexico. 
At  Contreras  he  ''behaved  in  the  handsomest  manner,"  in 
the  language  of  the  official  report.  At  Cherubusco  he  fell 
mortally  wounded. 

Julia  Dearing  was  Clara  Leslie's  first  cousin,  her  deceased 
mother  being  Julia's  aunt.  She  was  also  distantly  connected 
with  the  Latane  family.  Her  father.  Judge  Dearing,  had  been 
for  many  years  the  Judge  of  the  United  States  Court,  and  was 
a  Pennsylvanian  by  birth,  having  come  to  his  adopted  State 
in  early  life.  His  grand-father  had  been  the  first  President 
of  the  State  University,  and  his  father  was  a  prominent  offi- 
cer in  the  United  States  Army  during  his  life  and  until  his 
death.     Hence,  the  very  conservative  opinions  which  he  en- 


ETOWAH.  33 

tertained  of  the  approaching  conflict  between  the  South  and 
the  North,  East  and  West. 

Colonel  Leslie's  grand-father  had  received  his  patent  to  the 
estate  on  which  he  lived  from  King  George  of  England.  Its 
Indian  name  had  been  given  to  it  in  commemoration  of 
the  Indian  maiden,  "Thronateeska,"  who  took  the  fatal  leap 
from  the  precipitous  blufi  into  the  rapids  below  with  her 
lover  rather  than  see  him  burned  at  the  stake  by  her  irate 
father,  who  had  forbidden  their  union.  The  locality  is  now 
called  ''Lover's  Leap."  In  like  manner,  the  name  of  the 
chief,  her  father,  was  given  to  the  adjoining  estate,  owned 
by  the  mother  of  Henry  Latan^,  and  known   as  Chestatee. 

The  falls  that  beautified  the  Etowah  river  in  front  of 
these  two  fine  estates  recalled  to  the  returned  tourists  the 
falls  of  the  Sallenche  in  the  Canton  Valais  in  Switzerland, 
while  the  two  mansions  in  the  lovely  valley  were  surrounded 
by  beautiful  grounds  ornamented  with  flowers,  rare  plants, 
artificial  lakes,  fish  ponds  and  parks  for  deer. 

One  of  the  pre-historic  mounds  that  extend  from  Ohio  and 
KentucJjy  to  Mexico — relics  of  the  unknown  race  which  first 
peopled  this  continent — overlooked  the  river  at  Throna- 
teeska,  and  on  its  summit  was  a  fountain,  which  was  w^atered 
from  the  upper  waters  of  a  tributary  stream. 

These  young  people  had  wealth,  the  highest  social  position 
in  the  land,  delightful  homes,  cultured  society — all,  in  short, 
that  makes  life  most  desirable.  Colonel  Leslie  alone  owned 
five  hundred  negro  slaves,  inherited  from  his  father.  These 
negroes  were  distributed  on  a  half  dozen  plantations.  His 
income  was  princely  and  his  generosity  was  proverbial. 
Judge  Bearing  had  always  refused  to  buy  or  sell  a  slave,  and 
hence,   had   never  been   a  slave-owner.     But  the  servants 

3 


34  ETOWAH. 

about  his  home  belonged  to  his  daughter,  Julia,  as  they  had 
been  the  property  of  her  mother.  His  reverence  for  the  law 
and  the  laws  of  inheritance  forbade  his  giving  them  their 
freedom,  but  he  had  already  set  aside  a  sum  for  the  purpose 
of  buying  them  from  his  daughter  that  he  might  emancipate 
them  when  she  became  of  age.  Her  maid  and  the  old  wo- 
man who  had  been  her  nurse  during  her  childhood  stoutly 
declared  that  they  never  would  leave  her,  even  if  they  were 
emancipated ;  and  the  more  Judge  Dearing  pondered  upon 
the  question  the  more  perplexed  he  became,  for  it  was  ex- 
tremely doubtful  whether  emancipation  would  better  their 
condition.  Then  the  Dred  Scott  decision  !  Said  Chief  Jus- 
tice Taney,  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court,  in  the  "  Dred 
Scott"  decision  in  1856:  "It  is  difficult  to  realize  the  state  of 
public  opinion  in  relation  to  that  unfortunate  race  which 
prevailed  in  the  civilized  and  enlightened  portions  of  the 
world  at  the  time  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  and 
when  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  was  framed  and 
adopted.  But  the  public  history  of  every  European  nation 
displays  it  in  a  manner  t(?o  plain  to  be  mistaken.  They 
had  for  more  than  a  century  before  been  regarded  as  beings 
of  an  inferior  order,  and  altogether  unfit  to  associate  with 
the  white  race,  either  in  social  or  political  relations ;  and  so 
far  inferior  that  they  had  no  rights  which  the  white  man 
was  bound  to  respect ;  and  that  the  negro  might  justly  and 
lawfully  be  reduced  to  slavery  for  his  benefit. 

"  He  was  bought  and  sold,  and  treated  as  an  ordinary  ar- 
ticle of  merchandise  and  traffic  whenever  a  profit  could  be 
made  out  of  it." 

Such  were  the  words  of  the  Chief  Justice  in  support  of  the 
conclusions  of  law  of  the  highest  judicial  tribunal  of  the 
land  at  the  time  of  which  we  write. 


ETOWAH.  35 

Nearly  one-half  of  the  population  of  the  South  were  negro 
slaves.  If  slave-holders  were  brutal,  as  political  agitators 
charged,  there  was  a  servile  foe  in  their  rear  far  more  to  be 
dreaded  than  any  enemy  in  the  front.  Yet  in  those  distant 
plantation  homes  the  gentle  mistress,  with  her  young  chil- 
dren whose  fathers  and  brothers  were  in  the  Confederate 
army,  hundreds  of  miles  distant,  felt  no  terror  amid  the  hun- 
dreds of  slaves  around  them.  The  white  population  of  the 
United  States  was  eight  times  as  numerous  as  that  of  the  se- 
ceding States.  The  word  "  slave"  enlisted  public  sentiment 
throughout  the  civilized  world  against  them.  Capable  of  be- 
ing distorted  into  the  most  hideous  of  meanings,  the  word 
*'  slave  "  proved  a  more  terrible  foe  than  any  which  confronted 
their  armed  soldiery.  But  now,  like  a  prairie  fire,  the  war 
spirit  had  swept  over  the  States,  carrying  into  the  ranks  of 
Confederate  volunteers  the  old  and  the  young,  the  rich  and 
the  poor. 

And  in  ten  thousand  homes,  delicate,  refined  gentlewomen 
with  their  little  children  lived  amid  their  negro  slaves,  pro- 
tected by  the  kinship  of  humanity. 


CHAPTER  V. 

But  a  month  before  Henry  Latane  had  written  the  fol- 
lowing sophomoric  article  for  the  college  magazine  : 

FOR   THE    COLLEGIAN. 

One  cannot  help  wondering  as  to  his  prospective  wife. 
Have  I  ever  seen  her?     Who  is  she?     Where  is  she? 

Have  I  ever  talked  with  her,  or  is  she  still  hidden  from 
me  by  the  impenetrable  and  impalpable  future  ?  Mystery 
of  mysteries,  our  unwedded  fate !  Which  one  of  my  acquaint- 
ances; what  plan  of  mine;  what  train  of  thought  is  to  lead 
me  to  her  ? 

Or  will  it  be  no  friend,  no  plan,  no  thought,  but  only 
the  silent  workings  of  those  strange  things  called  accidents? 
Strange  I  that  of  all  the  millions  that  people  this  earth  we 
two  are  so  surely  to  find  each  other,  though  now  so  utterly 
ignorant  of  each  other's  existence.  We  are  approaching  now 
by  an  inevitable  fate,  yet  neither  of  us  feels  in  the  heart  one 
throb  of  that  great  passion  which  one  day  is  to  reign  there. 
We  are  even  indifferent  to  each  other  as  yet.  Oh  I  for  a 
glance  into  some  mirror  that  would  i effect,  even  if  for  an  in- 
stant only,  the  features  of  one  who  is  to  be  the  sharer  of  his 
fortunes,  the  participant  in  all  his  thoughts.  Is  she  a 
blonde?  a  brunette?  Is  she,  like  myself,  a  careless,  indiffer- 
ent somebody?  Or  has  she  suffered  till  suffering  has  puri- 
fied her  spirit?  Or  has  she  known  none  but  thornless  flow- 
ers? 

She  may  be  even  now  brightening  the  world  about  her 
with  her  smiles. 


ETOWAH.  ^7 


Why  does  she  not  come  to  me  out  of  the  misty  future 
to  comfort  me  and  light  up  my  lonely  life? 

Ah  !  if  she  only  knew  how  unsatisfactory  the  world  is 
without  her  companionship — how  I  long  to  meet  and  wel- 
come her,  I  know  she  would  come  to  me  quickly. 

Does  she  inherit  the  traits  of  some  remote  ancestor,  and 
is  this  ativism  favorable  to  my  happiness  or  to  hers? 

From  books,  statues,  pictures,  the  soul  gleans  from  mem- 
ories, and  forms  for  itself  a  face  to  gaze  upon  with  its  inner  eye 
— a  face  that  epitomizes  all  the  beauties  of  the  past  ages  and 
concentrates  them  in  one.  Is  this  face  hers?  Bears  it  yet, 
in  the  strange,  sad,  but  hopeful  thoughtfulness  of  its  feat- 
ures, some  traces  of  a  glorious  past  life  before  this  one  ? 

Such  faces  have  I  seen,  whose  wondrous  beauty  must 
have  been  dispensed  by  the  higher  thoughts  of  a  lofty  ante- 
rior life. 

Has  ma  femme  inconnue  such  a  face?  Are  the  complex 
mental  attributes  on  which  genius  and  talent  depend  in- 
herited ? 

Out  of  the  countless  millions  who  people  the  earth,  like 
the  countless  stars  that  deck  the  heavens,  if  no  two  are  iden- 
tically the  same,  of  what  avail  is  heredity  ? 

Is  it  an  illusion  that  the  Arabs  have  for    thousands  of 

years  kept  pedigrees  of  their  horses?     If  not  an  illusion,  is 

it  not  far  rnore  important  that  the  wife  whom  I  seek  shall 

belong  to  the  elect  ? 

Is  inheritance  the  rule  and  non-inheritance  the  anomaly  ? 

Why  read  the  thirtieth  chapter  of  Genesis,  or  Plato's 
Republic,  or  Virgil's  Georgics?  Is  not  Darwin  right  when 
he  says  :  "  But  human  nature  is  the  same  throughout  the 
world;  fashion  reigns  supreme,  and  man  is  apt  to  value 
whatever  he  may  chance  to  possess."     It  seems  to  me  that 


38  ETOWAH. 

1  value  most  what  I  do  not  possess.  And  yet,  is  it  well  to 
possess  ?  "  In  every  living  creature  we  may  feel  assured 
that  a  host  of  lost  characters  lie  ready  to  be  evolved  under 
proper  conditions."  How  can  we  utilize  this  power  of  call- 
ing back  to  life  long-lost  characters  ? 

It  is  possible  that  my  affinity  is  plain,  hard,  practical, 
downright  ugly !  If  so,  may  she  remain  in  the  unknown, 
and  bloom  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Nowhere  in  the  land  of 
Utopia,  dispelling,  like  the  Eucalyptus,  the  miasma  of  un- 
happy forebodings. 

Ah,  but  her  mind !  Is  she  reading  at  this  moment  some 
grand  master,  or  some  old  maid,  who  has  ransacked  all  the 
dictionaries  for  words  big  enough,  comprehensive  enough  to 
explain  her  meaning  which  ''adumbrates  in  the  penum- 
bra ?" 

Or  is  she  singing  some  song  of  the  ages,  some  song  that  has 
welled  up  out  of  the  great  heart  ot  mankind  and  found  its  ex- 
pression at  last  from  the  hand  of  a  Maestro  ?  Thus  is  she 
making  her  own  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  best  and 
greatest — reaping  the  harvest  of  the  literary  host  that  she  may 
share  it  with  me  some  day  ? 

And  who  has  preceded  me  in  her  affections  ?  But,  sup- 
posing that  she  has  never  been  courted,  would  I  like  to  be 
her  forlorn  hope  ?  Would  it  be  a  pleasant  reflection  to  know 
that  my  lips  were  the  first  that  ever  uttered  words  of  love  to 
her?    Scylla  and  Charybdis  are  here ! 

Is  she  precise,  prim,  exact?  Will  she,  if  she  is  a  traveled 
miss  aufait  to  customs  European,  will  she  tell  me  that  a  spit- 
toon is  unknown  over  there  because  gentlemen  in  Europe  never 
chew  tobacco  ?  That  I  may  retort  that  rocking  chairs  are 
there  also  unknown  and,  ergo,  ladies  never  sit  in  rocking 
chairs  ?     If,  by  chance,  she  be  a  Northern  girl,  will  she  tell 


ETOWAH.  39 

me  that  the  very  essence  of  delightful  laziness,  putting  one's 
feet  against  pillar  or  railing,  is  purely  a  Southern  custom — 
that  Northerners  never  do  this? 

I  wonder  if  she  will  catch  me  thus  en  flagrante  delictu^  and 
utter  those  cabalistic  words  which  always  invoke  the  hidden 
devils  of  a  man's  nature:     "I  told  you  so!" 

It  would  interest  one  to  know  whether  he  is  to  storm  the 
citadel  of  the  lady's  heart,  nr  be  himself  taken  by  storm  or 
stratagem.  And  her  kin!  But  one  wearies  himself  with  such 
conjectures,  and  here  endeth  the  reveries  of  a  bachelor  I 

The  above  duly  appeared  in  the  "Collegian,"  and  the 
"  bachelor"  writer,  Henry  Latane,  was  aged  twenty. 

He  congratulated  himself  that  he  had  never  "fallen  in  love" 
— had  never  yet  met  the  "destiny,"  whose  coming  he  so  flip- 
pantly invoked  in  the  above  epistle.  He  frequently  asserted 
that  love  was  a  weakness  which  debarred  a  man  from  mak- 
ing his  mark  in  the  world;  and  that  many  years  should 
elapse  before  he  would  hazard  his  future  by  giving  the  mat- 
ter any  consideration  whatever. 

Withal,  he  was  as  manly,  frank,  intelligent  and  genial  a 
young  fellow  as  one  is  apt  to  meet  in  life — was  this  young 
editor  of  the  college  magazine. 

And  little  did  he  reck  of  the  stirring  scenes  in  which  he 
was  so  soon  to  enact  a  conspicuous  part,  and  of  the  chequered 
vicissitudes  which  were  to  characterize  his  own  affection, 
which  came  to  him  as  suddenly  as  a  meteor;  pierced  his 
vaunted  impenetrability  with  the  ease  and  purity  of  a  light- 
ning flash,  and  left  him  in  the  meshes  of  a  love  as  pure  ap 
the  tints  of  the  dawn. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE    STARS    AND    BARS. 


They  had  not  a  vessel  on  the  seas ;  not  a  regiment  of  vet- 
eran troops;  no  arsenals,  nor  manufactories  for  making  arms 
and  ammunition. 

'  The  "  Free  States"  under  the  slogan  of  "  Union  "  were  bat- 
tling for  the  balance  of  power ;  the  ''  Slave  States  "  under 
the  slogan  of  "  Liberty  "  were  fighting  for  independence — 
repelling  invaders — protecting  their  homes  and  firesides. 

The  Constitution  of  the  Confederate  States  absolutely  pro- 
hibited the  over-sea  slave  trade;  that  of  the  Union  did  not. 

The  Federals  declared  that  they  were  fighting  to  emanci- 
pate the  negro ;  the  Confederates  retorted  that  the  Constitu- 
tion was  the  shield  of  slavery,  and  that,  under  its  protection, 
they  had  invested  two  thousands  of  millions  of  dollars  in  the 
"  peculiar  institution,"  and  that  emancipation,  without 
compensation,  meant  ruin.  The  logic  of  events  made  slavery 
the  corner-stone  of  the  new  government. 

Meanwhile  Washington,  Jefferson,  and  three-fourths  of  all 
the  Presidents  of  the  U  nited  States,  from  the  beginning  of  the 
government,  were  slave-holders.  Disunion  had  its  origin  in 
New  England,  now  the  hot-bed  of  unionism  and  abolitionism. 

On  four  separate  occasions  Massachusetts  had  threatened 
to  secede  from  the  Union  ;  on  one  occasion  her  legislature  had 
actually  passed  a  vote  of  secession.  One  of  the  chief  leaders 
of  the  abolitionists,  on  the  fourth  of  July,  1856,  undertook 
to  "register  a  pledge  before  heaven  to  do  what  within  him  lay 
to  effect  the  eternal  overthrow  of  the  Union."     He  was  now 


ETOWAH.  41 

taking  an  active  part  in  support  of  the  war  to  maintain  that 
Union. 

And  yet  the  father  of  the  Republican  party,  the  great  Fed- 
eralist, Alexander  Hamilton,  stigmatized  coercion  of  sover- 
eign States  as  "madness." 

American  leaders  seemed  to  be  political  Iconoclasts. 

The  Union  had  been  the  shield  of  slavery  ;  and  the  slave- 
holders now  took  the  initiative  in  casting  aside  the  shield. 

One  fought  for  the  rights  of  the  Sovereign  States;  the 
other  for  an  Imperial  Republic. 

Thus  this  clash  of  arms  between  the  Titans ! 

Thus  a  new  flag  was  flung  to  the  breeze,  The  Stars  and 
Bars. 

And  now  the  great  battle  of  Manassas  had  resulted  in  a 
glorious  triumph  for  that  new  standard. 

At  roll-call  that  morning  the  membership  of  the  regiment 
to  which  Lieutenant  Hugh  Leslie  belonged  was  five  hundred 
and  eighty;  by  night,  the  killed  and  wounded  amounted  to 
two  hundred  and  eighty.  They  had  heard  for  the  first  time 
the  weird  scream  of  bomb-shells,  which  tore  the  ground  about 
them  into  fragments,  and  scattered  death-dealing  missiles 
into  their  ranks.  The  Minnie  balls  cut  through  the  leaves 
of  the  trees,  and  bullets  rattled  against  fences  or  rocks  like 
peas  thrown  against  a  drum-head.  The  slaughter  was  ter- 
rific as  the  enemy  closed  around  them,  while  dust  and  smoke 
obscured  the  advancing  columns  on  the  narrow  plateau. 

The  valley  resounded  as  the  decimated  troops  pressed  on 
in  the  gallant  charge,  and  faced  again  and  again  the  ever- 
increasing  hosts  before  them. 

The  situation  was  critical,  and  defeat  seemed  inevitable, 
as  the  Federal  columns,  which  grew  into  vast  proportions, 
rapidly  advanced  with  cheers  of  victory.     The  woods  and 


42  ETOWAH. 

fields  were  filled  with  their  masses  of  infantry  and  well- 
equipped  cavalry.  It  was  then  that  General  Johnston  or- 
dered the  charge  of  his  last  available  brigade. 

As  at  Waterloo,  the  field  of  battle  at  Manassas  was  chiefly 
fought  on  a  small  plateau.  Had  Grouchy  arrived  two  hours 
sooner  than  did  Blucher,  Napoleon  would  have  won  the  bat- 
tle and  the  map  of  Europe  would  have  been  changed.  Unless 
Early  should  arrive  in  a  few  moments,  Generals  Johnston 
and  Beauregard  saw  that  the  day  was  lost.  Yet  these  gallant 
troops  did  not  falter,  but  advanced  against  the  hosts  before 
them  with  yells  that  betokened  victory ;  reckless,  desperate, 
daring,  impetuous  men,  who  would  not  acknowledge  defeat! 

And  now,  far  in  the  distance,  they  see  the  glint  of  flash- 
ing steel,  as  Early's  brigade  comes  in  view,  having  double- 
quicked  nearly  all  the  way  from  its  original  position  six 
miles  below  the  Stone  bridge,  far  down  on  Bull  Run.  Placed 
in  position  just  in  the  rear  of  the  little  army,  they  advanced 
to  the  field  amid  the  boom  of  cannon  and  the  enfilading 
fire  of  musketry.  To  their  right,  the  left  of  the  Confederate 
army  was  heavily  engaged;  in  front  they  encountered  the 
Federal  skirmish  line  first,  then  formed  in  line  of  battle.  A 
quarter  of  an  hour  later  and  the  Federals  would  have  flanked 
the  Confederates,  and  the  field  would  have  been  lost.  Amid 
the  welcoming  cheers  of  the  gallant  troops  on  their  right  they 
advanced,  with  their  colors  flying,  and  held  well  forward 
that  all  might  see  that  these  flags  were  the  stars  and  bars. 
They  seemed  fresh  troops — did  these  gray-coats — as  they 
quickly  obeyed  the  command :  "On  right,  by  file,  into 
line !"  and  formed  in  line  of  battle  as  if  on  dress-parade. 

The  men  fell  by  scores ;  but  their  comrades  pressed  on 
over  their  fallen  bodies  and  opened  fire.  The  Confederate 
batteries  were  now  in  action  all  along  the  line,  and  the  or- 


ETOWAH.  43 

der  was  given  to  make  a  general  charge.  Already  the  at- 
tack of  Beauregard  in  front  had  driven  the  Federals  back, 
and,  as  Early's  brigade  charged  their  right  and  took  them 
fairly  in  flank,  the  Federal  lines  broke  and  fled,  and  were 
driven  like  chaflf  before  the  wind.  Vainly  their  officers 
sought  to  rally  them. 

The  retreat  became  a  stampede. 

The  stampede  became  a  panic,  and  resembled  the  flight  of 
Murad  Bey  with  his  80,000  Mussulmans  and  Asiatic  mili- 
tia before  the  victorious  Kleber. 

The  panic  became  a  rout,  and  artillery  horses  fell  dead 
upon  each  other,  obstructing  the  flight  of  the  frenzied 
troops.  Caissons  were  overturned  in  the  desperate  flight,  as 
the  Federals  were  forced  over  the  narrow  plateau  and  driven 
into  the  fields,  where  the  columns  scattered  and  rushed  pell- 
mell,  a  disorganized  mob,  toward  Bull  Run.  The  cavalry 
and  light  batteries  pursued,  and,  far  in  the  distance,  re- 
treating masses  could  be  seen  as  the  flying  Federals  turned 
toward  the  Potomac.  The  wounded  asked  for  water.  Am- 
bulances went  on  the  run  to  the  battle  field.  Couriers  flew 
with  orders  in  hot  haste  over  the  hill  and  plain.  Generals 
with  their  staffs  galloped  from  hill  to  hill  to  overlook  the 
movements  of  the  troops,  who  were  surging  and  swaying  at 
double  quick,  and  yelling  like  wild  Indians  as  they  drove 
back  the  enemy  and  broke  their  columns. 

This  bivouac  of  the  dead  was  an  awful  scene. 

One  hurried  to  the  branch  for  water ;  another  rode  to  the 
rear  for  ambulances  to  bear  away  the  wounded. 

Surgeons  were  busy;  the  wounded  were  all  along  the 
line,  and  as  one  passed  he  saw  the  quivering  flesh  and 
arteries  and  the  thigh-bones  severed  with  the  saw,  and  heard 
the  agonized  groans  of  those  who  were  thus  saved  by  being 
maimed  for  life. 


44  ETOWAH. 

As  one  poor  fellow  was  attended  to,  and  moved  aside,  the 
doctor  wiped  fhe  perspiration  from  his  brow,  and  hurriedly- 
said/' Next!" 

Excitement  and  victory  smothered  feeling  during  the 
battle,  but  now  sympathy  was  busy;  wounded  men  often 
talked,  and  even  laughed  and  cried  as  the  surgeons  dressed 
their  wounds.  The  Federal  dead  were  so  thick  in  some 
places  that  one  could  step  from  corpse  to  corpse. 

On  the  summit  of  a  knoll,  where  the  fight  had  been  dead- 
liest, Hugh  Leslie  and  Colonel  Pierce  found  the  body  of 
their  friend.  Major  Moyer,  where  they  had  seen  him  fall. 
The  cannonading  had  ceased,  but  the  smoke  still  hovered 
over  the  battle-field,  and  ambulances  went  slowly  to  and 
fro  bearing  off  the  wounded.  His  body  was  partly  cov- 
ered by  the  battle-flag,  which  he  had  wrested  from  the  gal- 
lant Federal  who  had  slain  the  color-bearer.  The  flag  of 
the  "  Lone  Star  State"  thus  covered  the  Gra}^  and  the  Blue. 
But  a  singular  scene  confronted  them.  Two  men  were  in 
violent  dispute  over  the  body  of  their  fallen  friend,  and 
were  too  much  absorbed  in  their  efforts  to  rob  him  to  ob- 
serve their  approach.  The  German  accent  of  one  of 
these  men  showed  that  he  had  hardly  been  in  the  United 
States  long  enough  to  become  naturalized.  He  was  dressed 
in  the  Federal  uniform.  The  other  wore  the  gray  uniform 
of  the  Southern  army.  The  German  was  struggling  with 
the  other  robber,  who  had  torn  open  the  coat  of  the  fallen 
man  and  had  taken  therefrom  a  purse.  Hardly  had  he  done 
so  when  two  pistols  touched  the  heads  of  the  robbers,  and 
two  determined  faces  greeted  their  eyes  as  they  turned  to 
see  who  the  new-comers  were. 

The  two  villains  had  detected  each  other  in  the  same  pur- 
suit, and  had  cast  aside  their  weapons   that   each   might 


ETOWAH.  45 

know  that  the  design  of  the  other  was  to  plunder  the  dead, 
not  fight  the  living,  Orime  was  the  talisman  that  drew  to- 
gether two  strangers  wearing  the  uniform  of  the  opposing 
armies.  Neither  of  them  had  engaged  in  the  battle ;  both 
of  them  had  waited  until  night  and  flight  had  put  an  end 
to  hostilities,  and  thus  they  formed  an  alliance.  The  Ger- 
man-Yankee fell  on  his  knees  and  begged  for  mercy;  the 
renegade  was  stoical  as  an  Indian,  while  Colonel  Pierce 
seized  his  ear  and  turned  his  head  until  his  forehead  touched 
the  muzzle  of  his  pistol.  He  then  coolly  remarked  :  "You 
are  disposed  to  be  dangerously  familiar."  His  look  was  more 
that  of  stolid  indifference  than  fear.  Treachery  vied  with 
cruelty  in  that  sinister  face,  and  cunning  shone  in  the  glit- 
tering black  eyes.  His  appearance  indicated  resolution,  and 
his  tall,  angular  figure  was  strong  and  lithe,  while  the  stoop- 
ing, round  shoulders  showed  that  this  man  had  done  hard 
labor  somewhere. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  his  captor. 

"  I  am  what  letter-writers  call  your  humble  servant,  and 
have  great  respect  for — your  pistol." 

"  An  escaped  convict  ?  " 

"  No ;  a  miner  from  the  silver  mines  of  Arizona." 

"  Who  is  he  whom  you  have  just  robbed  ?  " 

"  A  very  generous  young  rebel  who,  in  settling  his  debts 
with  this  world,  left  to  me  this  purse,  signed  by  Thomas 
Moyer.  It  contains  two  checks  for  $2,500.  Take  the  one 
drawn  for  Sl,500  and  turn  loose  my  ear." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  No  more  trifling,  or  I'll  blow  your 
brains  out,  you  murderous  dog !  " 

"  Jonathan  Ray,  20th  Louisiana  regiment,  at  your  service," 
replied  the  man  coolly." 

"  And  his  ?  "  said  Pierce,  pointing  to  the  prostrate  form  of 
Tom  Moyer. 


46  ETOWAH. 

"  Major  Blank — blanked  if  I  know,  though  he  has  a  major's 
star  on  his  coat." 

"Put  that  purse  and  the  checks  where  you  found  them. 
Hesitate,  Jonathan  Ray,  and  your  life  pays  the  forfeit." 

The  man  obeyed. 

"  Now  go ! "  said  Pierce.  "  If  I  find  you  away  from  your 
regiment  again  I  will  have  you  tried  and  shot  for  the  crime 
already  committed." 

The  man  gave  one  wild,  incredulous  stare,  then  ran  rap- 
idly down  the  hill,  followed  by  his  comrade,  whom  Hugh 
had  likewise  released,  giving  him  a  kick  as  he  departed. 

They  now  gently  raised  their  friend,  who,  recognizing 
them,  faintly  pressed  their  hands.  They  bore  him  to  a 
spring  nearby,  and  by  bathing  his  head  and  moistening  his 
parched  lips,  gradually  revived  him.  Then,  giving  him  some 
brandy,  they  were  rejoiced  to  find  that  his  pulse  was  more 
natural  and  his  rest  more  comfortable. 

"  Hugh,  go  now  for  Dr.  Battle,  and  tell  him  to  send  an 
ambulance  here  immediately,"  said  Colonel  Pierce.  Without 
a  moment's  delay,  Hugh  went  on  his  mission.  They  had 
left  their  horses  tied  to  a  tree  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  but  now 
they  were  not  to  be  seen.  Evidently  the  robbers  whom  they 
had  spared  had  taken  them.  No  time  was  to  be  lost  if 
Moyer  was  to  be  saved,  and  Hugh  kept  on  his  way  on  foot. 
After  wandering  sometime,  he  became  conscious  that  he  was 
lost,  and  did  not  know  the  direction  of  the  camp. 

The  silent  stars  looked  down  upon  the  wounded,  the  dy- 
ing and  the  dead,  and  the  brave  youth's  heart  was  saddened 
by  the  spectacle  of  those  rigid  forms  stilled  in  death,  which, 
a  few  hours  before,  exulted  in  life  and  glowed  with  patriotic 
ardor. 

From  the  point  where  he  stood  he  could  see  the  Henry 
House,  where  Mrs.  Henry  had  been  killed  that  day  by  the 


ETOWAH.  47 

fire  from  the  Federal  side.  She  had  been  wounded  twice  in 
the  house,  and  Hugh  had  aided  the  soldiers  by  whom  she 
was  taken  down  to  the  branch  as  a  place  of  safety.  Here 
she  was  struck  again,  and  she  was  taken  back  to  the  house 
where  she  was  finally  killed,  the  house  being  riddled. 

The  moon  lighted  this  ghastly  scene,  where  forms  of  dead 
soldiers,  the  Gray  and  the  Blue,  lay  as  they  had  fallen  in 
battle.  Here  and  there  were  caissons  overturned,  and  hav- 
ersacks and  cartridge-boxes  littered  the  plateau.  As  Hugh 
neared  the  stream  where  the  carnas^e  had  been  most  dreadful, 
a  moan  arrested  his  step?.  He  listened.  Near  him  lay  a 
group  of  Confederate  and  Federal  dead,  and  underneath  two 
of  them  was  a  wounded  soldier,  who  feebly  begged  for  a  cup 
of  water — "a  drink  of  water  before  I  die !"  Hugh  filled  his 
hat  with  water  and,  returning,  raised  the  head  of  the  wounded 
soldier  and  gave  him  water. 

Truth  is  sometimes  stranger  than  fiction. 

The  wounded  soldier  was  a  youth  and  the  water  seemed 
to  give  him  a  new  lease  on  life.  His  face  was  blood-stained 
and  Hugh  had  not  observed  it  particularly,  his  mind  being 
too  full  of  thoughts  concerning  Moyer.  His  friend  might 
lose  his  life  for  this  delay,  caused  by  aiding  a  Federal  soldier, 
yet  not  to  have  heeded  his  request  would  have  been  unworthy 
a  soldier  or  a  gentleman.  Now,  however,  he  must  hurry, 
and  he  gently  prepared  to  ease  the  soldier  down  again,  first 
having  removed  the  bodies  \\hich  lay  across  his  limbs.  The 
hand  of  the  soldier  tightened  its  grasp  on  his  arm,  and  a 
voice  said,  in  a  strangely  familiar  accent,  ''God  bless  you, 
Hugh!  don't  you  know  me?"  To  Hugh's  amazement  the 
lieutenant  proved  to  be  a  former  class-mate,  Charles  Bar- 
num !  He  bathed  his  head  tenderly,  and  washed  away  the 
blood  which  had  coagulated  upon  his  face  and  head.     The 


48  ETOWAH. 

ball  had  passed  around  the  skull  without  fracturing  it,  but 
he  was  al-o  wounded  in  the  calf  of  the  leg  by  a  minnie  ball 
which  broke  the  small  (fibula)  bone,  and  badly  fractured  the 
larger  one.  The  ball  had  flattened  and  had  come  out  side- 
ways, severing  muscles,  tendons,  veins  and  nerves,  and  hence 
Barnum  was  very  seriously  wounded.  Taking  off  his  coat, 
Hugh  placed  it  under  his  head,  that  he  might  have  greater 
comfort.  He  then  told  Barnum  of  Moyer's  probably  fatal 
wound,  and  of  his  mission  in  search  of  a  surgeon. 

"Never  mind  me,  Hugh ;  save  Tom  Moyer,"  said  the  noble 
youth. 

"I'll  save  you  both  ;  cheer  up,  Barnum.  I'll  scon  be  back,'* 
and  he  was  off  again. 

He  did  not  go  far;  as  he  entered  the  wood,  he  heard  steps 
behind  him,  and,  drawing^  his  revolver,  turned  with  the 
command,  "halt !"  He  had  scarcely  uttered  the  word  when 
a  shot,  fired  from  behind  a  tree  in  front  of  him,  struck  him 
in  the  head  and  put  an  end  to  his  humane  mission. 

The  robbers,  after  concealing  the  horses,  had  followed 
Hugh.  They  had  seen  him  minister  to  the  wants  of  a  Fed- 
eral officer;  had  waited  until  he  had  entered  the  wood, 
intending  to  murder  him  by  knocking  him  down  and  cut- 
ting his  throat.  They  did  not  wish  to  excite  Pierce's  sus- 
picions by  firing  a  gun,  for  they  intended  to  kill  them  in 
detail  in  order  to  get  possession  of  the  checks.  When  Hugh 
heard  the  step  of  the  German  who  intended  to  strike  him 
from  behind,  he  stopppd  and  before  he  could  well  draw  his 
weapon,  he  had  been  shot  by  the  man  whom  he  had  spared ! 
Pierce  was  watching  the  slf  eping  form  of  Moyer  whe  i  the 
shot  was  fired  ;  creeping  forward  to  the  highest  point  of  the 
hill  he  looked  forth.  The  moon  now  shone  brightly ;  he  saw 
two  men  rush  from  the  wood  to  where  they  had  tied  the 


ETOWAH.  49 

horses,  mount  them  and  ride  toward  him.  They  rode  slowly, 
cautiously,  but  Pierce  finally  recognized  the  horses  and  the 
truth  flashed  upon  him  in  an  instant.  Hurrying  back,  he 
crossed  the  brook,  and  stationed  himself  behind  a  large  oak 
tree  so  as  to  be  able  to  fire  upon  any  one  who  approached 
from  that  side.     The  forest  was  on  every  other  side. 

He  waited  a  half  hour,  but  could  neither  see  nor  hear  any 
one;  Moyer  was  still  sleeping.  Pierce  having  placed  his  coat 
over  him.  He  stepped  forth  to  take  a  new  position,  and  as 
he  did  so  a  ball  whizzed  past  his  head ;  as  the  report  came 
from  the  rear,  he  turned  and  firing  quickly  and  at  random, 
for  the  smoke  had  not  yet  cleared  away,  his  ball  struck  the 
Dutchman,  killing  him  just  as  he  was  in  the  act  of  aiming 
his  gun  again.  Rushing  forward  he  stumbled  and  fell.  The 
fall  saved  his  life,  for  the  other  robber  had  taken  deadly  aim 
and  fired  just  as  he  stumbled;  the  ball  passed  over  him. 
As  the  smoke  passed  away  he  saw  the  Yankee,  for  he  now 
wore  the  Federal  uniform,  mounted  on  his  horse  and  fired 
upon  him.  Seeing  that  his  comrade  was  killed,  Jonathan 
Ray  fled  untouched.  Pierce  emptying  another  barrel  at  him 
as  he  rode  off.  Moyer,  aroused  by  the  firing  and  delirious 
still,  shouted:  "Hurrah  for  Pierce!  now,  boys,  charge!" 
then  sank  again  exhausted  by  the  effort.  His  wounds  bled 
again ;  his  countenance  became  pallid  as  death,  and  his 
extremities  again  grew  cold.  As  Pierce  knelt  by  him, 
moments  seemed  hours,  and  imagination  conjured  up  new 
horrors.  His  conscience  reproached  him,  too,  for  having 
sent  Hugh  off" alone.     Had  he  sent  him  to  his  grave? 

These  thoughts  were  arrested  by  the  approach  of  wheels; 
the  ambulance  of  the  Eighth  regiment  had  come  in  search 
of  their  wounded.     It  was  the  work  of  a   moment  to  place 

4 


50  ETOWAH. 

Moyer  in  the  ambulance,  and  taking  his  seat  by  him,  he 
held  his  head  in  his  lap  as  they  moved  slowly  off. 

As  they  neared  the  wood  where  the  shot  was  fired,  they 
saw  men  bearing  off  a  wounded  man  on  a  litter.  Pierce 
halted  them  and  asked  what  regiment  they  belonged  to  and 
who  they  were  bearing  off?  "The  Fifth  Texas.  We  came 
out  to  look  for  our  major,  Major  Moyer.  We  found  the  hero 
of  the  great  battle  lying  here  desperately  wounded,  and  we 
are  going  to  take  care  of  him  first." 

"Your  major  is  here,"  said  Colonel  Pierce,  hurriedly  get- 
ting out  of  the  ambulance  and  going  to  the  litter.  He  looked 
earnestly  at  the  body  and  now  the  strong  man  wept.  There 
lay  the  pallid  features  of  Hugh  Leslie  turned  to  the  sky.  The 
blood  still  trickled  from  the  wound  in  the  head ;  the  form 
seemed  stiffening  in  death ;  the  boy-soldier  seemed  sleeping 
the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking  on  earth  ! 

The  morrow  dawned — a  bright  summer  day.  The  birds 
in  the  green  trees  were  twitting  and  singing  the  sweetest 
carols  of  summer.  The  daisies  and  violets  seemed  never 
lovelier  or  sweeter.  The  earth  seemed  at  peace.  The  dead 
seemed  restored;  the  living  to  die.  Hugh  Leslie,  whom  all 
thought  would  die,  had  rallied,  and  had  insisted  that  Bar- 
num  should  be  sought  for,  and  now  they  were  lying  near 
each  other.     Major  Moyer  died  that  night. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


AT    "intervale." 


'*Mr.  Potts,  do  you  know  Captain  Latan6  ?"  asked  Clara 
Leslie. 

"I  am  acquainted  with  him ;  I  don't  know  him,"  replied 
Wellington  Napoleon  Potts,  a  young  man,  aged  twenty-tive. 

The  occasion  was  a  "Reception"  at  the  hospitable  summer 
home  of  Colonel  Leslie  in  commencement  week.  The  scene 
was  the  ball-room  at  "Intervale."  It  was  believed  that  Potts 
had  entered  the  Military  Institute  in  order  to  avoid  going 
into  the  army,  for  already  the  word  "skulker"  had  been 
coined. 

"That  is  strange,"  replied  Clara;  "every  one  speaks  so 
highly  of  Captain  Latan^." 

"I  think  he  is  the  most  arrogant  and  pretentious  fellow  I 
ever  knew ;  he  expresses  a  contempt  for  me  because  I  have 
entered  the  Institute  instead  of  enlisting  in  the  army,  while 
remaining  here  himself.  I  predict  that  he  will  never  go  into 
the  army." 

"Do  you  consider  that  a  disgrace,  Mr.  Potts?" 

"I  do,  when  a  man  feels  it  his  duty  to  go ;  for  my  part,  I 
do  not  think  so,  and  I  shall  not  enlist  until  forced  to  do  so. 
What  do  you  think  about  it  ?" 

Clara,  astonished  at  this  statement,  said  :  "It  seems  to  me 
to  be  incumbent  upon  every  gentleman.  But  pardon  me, 
Mr.  Potts,  you  are  our  guest,  and  I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude." 

Potts  bowed,  but  said  nothing ;  for,  without  intending  it, 


52  ETOWAH. 

Clara,  in  promenading  with  Potts,  had  approached  the  place 
where  stood  her  father  and  Henry  Latane,  and  Colonel  Les- 
lie said : 

"I  am  glad  you  have  joined  us,  Clara,  for  I  wish  you  to  add 
your  persuasions  to  mine,  and  induce  Latane  to  remain  at 
the  Institute  until  he  graduates." 

"Are  you  going  into  the  army,  Captain  Latatie?"  she  asked, 
speaking  directly  to  Latane ;  for  her  thoughts  dwelt  upon 
the  remark  just  made  by  Potts. 

"He  has  been  elected  Captain  of  the  "Light  Guards,"  the 
company  which  his  father  led  to  Mexico,"  replied  her  father, 
"and  will  leave  for  Virginia,  going  first  to  Etowah  to-mor- 
row. In  spite  of  this,  I  do  not  think  his  duty  to  his 
mother,  or  his  responsibilities  as  a  slave-holder,  will  justify 
his  going  until  it  becomes  more  imperative  than  it  is  now." 

Latane  smiled  as  he  said  :  "My  resignation  has  been  ten- 
dered to  the  Superintendent,  and  by  him  will  be  accepted 
to-morrow.  I  will  leave  to-morrow  night."  Then  with 
careless  grace  he  asked  :  "Miss  Clara,  can  I  have  the  next 
dance  ?" 

"Certainly,"  she  replied,  "if  Mr.  Potts  will  release  me." 

Potts,  who  still  lingered  near  them,  bowed  affirmatively, 
but  an  expression  of  sinister  malice  darkened  his  face,  while 
Latane's  beamed  with  generous  good  nature. 

It  was  "the  Cuban."  As  they  danced  this  spirited  dance 
they  were  the  observed  of  the  observers,  for  never  had  Latane 
seemed  more  joyous,  as  his  light-hearted  laughter  responded 
to  the  silvery  tones  of  his  lovely  companion.  A  great  load 
seemed  lifted  from  his  heart  -at  last  his  wish  was  realized— 
the  army — honors,  duty  and  inclination  beckoned  him  on 
with  inspiring  wand.  The  various  groups  promenaded  while 
the  band  discoursed  from  the  inspiring  airs  of  Tannhauser 
at  the  conclusion  of  this  dance. 


ETOWAH.  53 

"I  am  glad  you  administered  that  rebuke  to  Potts,  Miss 
Clara ;  I  would  not  have  missed  hearing  it  and  seeing  him 
wince  under  it  for  worlds." 

''But  I  did  not  mean  that  you  should  hear  it,  and  I  did 
not  mean  to  say  it  to  a  guest  in  my  own  home ;  but,  really, 
Captain  Latand,  he  astonished  me  so  much  that  I  was  hard- 
ly conscious  of  what  I  said." 

''Don't  let  it  worry  you ;  it  is  as  easy  to  pierce  the  hide  of 
a  rhinoceros  with  a  hair-pin  as  to  wound  that  skulker's  sen- 
sibilities. Indeed,  it  is  high  time  that  every  gentleman  should 
leave  the  Institute,  whether  he  goes  to  the  front  or  not,  for  it 
is  becoming  a  refuge  for  such  fellows  as  Potts,  to  whom  I 
have  spoken  much  more  plainly  than  you  did." 

"Who  is  Mr.  Potts,  Captain  Latane?  I  never  heard  of 
the  name  before." 

Neither  he  nor  Clara  knew  that  Potts  was  standing  behind 
a  pillar  on  the  veranda  and  heard  every  word  they  uttered. 

'Totts,"  replied  Latane,  "is  what  savants  call  a  vara  avis, 
and  what  I  call  my  hete  noire.  1  am  really  sorry  for  one  who 
answers  at  roll-call  to  the  name  of  Wellington  Napoleon 
Potts!  I  never  think  of  him  without  recilling  a  criticism 
of  the  late  Judge  S  :  'I  am  ready  to  maintain  against  all 
comers  and  goers,  that  a  man  with  his  name  can  never  rise 
in  the  world.  A  union  of  the  grandiloquent  and  the  mean 
is  a  never-failing  source  of  ridicule,  and  a  fellow  -whose  ap- 
pellation is  Wellington,  or  Napoleon,  or  both,  topped  off 
with  Potts,  is  destined  to  be  somewhat  of  a  butt  in  his  pas- 
sage through  the  world.  He  feels  the  ridicule  of  his  name 
and  cowers  and  sinks  under  it,  or  he  takes  the  only  other 
alternative  and  glories  in  it.  Either  turn  is  fatal  to  true  ele- 
vation of  character.  A  great  name,  when  coupled  with  a 
man  or  a  dog  who  is  not  great,  dwarfs  him  into  absolute 


54  ETOWAH. 

meanness,  and  there  is  a  curious  tendency  in  men  and  dogs 
to  conform  to  the  estimate  which  the  world  has  of  them  ' 
I  have  a  pack  of  fox  hounds  at  home,  and  one  is  a  very- 
poor,  contemptible  dog ;  I  shall  change  his  name  and  call  him 
Potts." 

Clara  laughed,  for  he  spoke  in  a  tone  of  raillery,  and  re- 
plied : 

"But  you  have  not  told  me  loho  he  is;  I  did  not  ask  you 
what  he  was.  Now,  ordinarily,  it  would  be  self-condemna- 
tion in  me  to  ask  you  who  my  father's  guest  is ;  but  you 
know  at  these  commencement  parties  one  meets  everybody.'''' 

"All  that  I  know  about  him  is  that  he  lives  at  Pottsville, 
which,  you  know,  is  a  suburban  manufacturing  village  near 
Etowah,  and  his  father  owns  the  factory  and  the  village. 
His  father  came  from  New  England,  when  a  young  man,  as 
a  mechanic,  and  was  employed  as  an  overseer  in  my  father's 
cotton  mill.  Later,  he  became  superintendent,  and  finally 
amassed  sufiicient  money  to  build  his  own  mill.  He  is  now 
one  of  the  wealthiest  men  in  the  State,  and  Wellington  Na- 
poleon Potts  has  been  his  book-keeper  for  several  years,  and  is 
his  only  son  and  sole  heir.  Financially,  you  see,  he  is  quite 
a  'partly 

The  angry  frown  and  look  of  malicious  hate  on  the  eaves- 
dropper's face,  as  he  heard  this  criticism  of  himself,  was 
modified  now  by  a  smile  of  self-conceit  as  Potts  heard  his 
w^ealth  described  also. 

In  spite  of  the  estimate  given  of  his  character.  Potts  had 
decided  to  make  this  proud  young  beauty  his  wife,  if  it  took 
him  ten  years  to  do  it. 

He  was  animated  to  this  resolution,  not  by  sentiment  or 
love,  but  by  cool  calculation.  His  unique  ambition,  next 
to  making  money,   was  to  raise   himself  and  family  in  the 


ETOWAH.  55 

social  scale,  and  be  received  in  the  best  circles  of  society,  to 
which  he  had  hitherto  been  debarred  in  spite  of  his  wealth. 

"She  will  have  a  cool  hundred  thousand  dollars,  besides 
niggers !"  said  Potts  to  himself,  as  he  turned  away  to  avoid 
the  approach  of  the  couple,  who  seemed  too  much  interested 
in  themselves,  however,   to  notice  any  others. 

"I  would  not  marry  a  'skulker'  to  save  his  life!"  said 
Clara,  "even  if  he  had  all  the  wealth  of  the  Astors  and  Croe- 
sus united." 

"Then  I  have  no  chance,"  said  Latan§.  "It  has  been 
months  since  Hugh  went  to  Virginia,  and  I  am  still  here." 

"You  should  not  speak  thus,  Captain  Latane,  even  in 
jest ;  you  may  be  criticised  by  people  who  do  not  know,  as  I 
do,  how  anxious  you  are  to  go  'to  the  front,'  as  you  express 
it,  and  you  have  only  remained  here  because  your  duty  to 
your  mother  demands  it.  " 

"Who  told  you  that?" 

"No  one,  but  I  know  that  it  is  so.  I  have  heard  Hugh 
speak  of  you  too  often  to  doubt  your  gallantry." 

"I  thank  you.  Miss  Clara;  you  have  looked  into  my  heart 
clearly.  It  is  indeed  a  hard  trial  to  me,  and  I  am  almost 
convinced  that  it  is  no  longer  my  duty  to  remain  here.  I 
appeal  to  you  to  look  into  my  heart  still  deeper,  and  read 
there  all  that  I  would  say  to  you  to-night,  but  for  your 
youth  and  my  brief  acquaintance  with  you  since  you  were  a 
child.  Strange  mystery,  is  it  not,  that  I,  who  have  always 
been  told  that  we  were  destined  for  each  other,  should  this 
night  discover  that  the  idea  which  I  have  laughed  at  is  now 
my  dearest  wish  ?  To  you  I  ask  the  question  :  shall  I  go  or 
remain,  as  your  father  suggests,  to  protect  my  mother  and 
those  dependent  upon  her  and  upon  me? " 

She— recognizing   intuitively   that   that  look  and  voice, 


56  ETOWAH. 

whose  earnest,  trembliag  tones  could  not  be  counterfeited/ 
meant  a  loyal  love  for  her — said,  while   her  eyes  filled  with 
tears,  "I  ought  not  to  advise  you ;  I   am  but  a  simple,  inex- 
perienced  girl;  my  opinion  is  not  worth  having,  but  if  I 
were  your  mother  I  would  say,  go !  " 

They  stood  upon  the  rustic  bridge :  the  massive  vines 
which  clustered  over  the  trellis  that  arched  overhead  and 
hung  down  from  the  sides  of  the  bridge  concealed  them 
from  the  laughing  groups  which  thronged  the  paths  and 
graveled  walks  about  the  lawn. 

"I  knew  it,"  he  answered,  "I  knew  it,  "  and  ere  she  could 
reply  he  had  borne  her  unresisting  hand  to  his  lips.  What 
might  have  followed  was  prevented  by  the  sound  of  clatter- 
ing hoofs  as  a  horseman  rapidly  approached  up  the  winding 
road  through  the  lawn  to  the  house.  Leaping  from  the 
panting  animal,  the  rider  handed  to  Latane  a  telegram 
addressed  to  Colonel  Hugh  Leslie. 

They  entered  the  parlors  and  found  the  old  gentleman  in 
his  happiest  mood,  explaining  to  a  lady  the  beauties  of  a 
rare  specimen  of  porcelain  which  he  had  brought  from  Dres- 
den. "This,  madam,  is  a  treasure;  the  painting  is  of  ex- 
quisite delicacy  of  coloring.  It  is  by  Bracquemonde,  who,  I 
think,  has  even  excelled  the  ancients  in  painting  on  porce- 
lain. "  Just  at  this  moment,  touching  his  arm,  Latane 
handed  him  the  telegram.  Rumors  of  the  battle  at  Manas- 
sas had  reached  the  town,  though  it  was  not  thought  tnat 
the  regiment  to  which  Hugh  Leslie  belonged  was  engaged, 
and,  instantly  divining  the  serious  nature  of  this  telegram, 
he  retired  from  the  room,  Clara  following. 

A  moment  later  a  fall  was  heard  as  Clara  had  swooned,  on 
hearing  its  contents.     The  telegram  stated  that  Hugh  Leslie 


ETOWAH.  57 

nad  been  dangerously    wounded    and  had  been  carried  to 
Richmond. 

It  was  worded  as  follows : 

"Richmond,  Va.,  July  22d,  1861. 

''Your  son,  Hugh  Leslie,  Jr.,  greatly  distinguished  him- 
self yesterday.  Surgeon  Battle  reports  that  Lieutenant 
Leslie  was  dangerously  wounded.  Come  to  Richmond  at 
once.  Inquire  at  the  General  Hospital  or  at  the  War  De- 
partment. 

M.B.Pierce." 

Colonel  Leslie  sank  in  his  chair,  overcome  by  the  terrible 
news. 

Clara  swooned  as  she  read  the  telegram.  The  house  of 
revelry  was  changed  into  one  of  grief.     The  guests  departed. 

It  was  now  that  Potts  began  his  systematic  work  of  knav- 
ery. His  object  was  two-fold  :  first,  to  thwart  Henry  Latane, 
and  next  to  win  Clara  Leslie's  fortune  by  marrying  her 
himself. 

No  lawyer  ever  prepared  a  brief  more  carefully  and  sys- 
tematically than  did  Potts  his  scheming  against  the  peace 
of  mind  of  Henry  Latane. 

The  old  Scot's  maxim  :  "Get  thee  the  money,  my  son, 
honestly  if  thee  can,  but  get  the  money,"  he  reverenced. 
Emulating  a  prominent  politician  of  that  day,  he  considered 
all  men  purchasable,  and  valued  onl}?"  such  friends  as  could 
be  bought  and  bound  by  ties  of  self-interest.  And,  like  that 
famous  politician,  he  would  leave  no  stone  unturned  to  over- 
throw and  ruin  even  the  humblest  bailiff  who  opposed  his 
plans  or  thwarted  his  ends  in  any  way. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    CAPITAL. 

Richmond  was  crowded  with  troops,  officers  and  office- 
seekers.  Regiments  were  being  marched  to  their  quarters  as 
fast  as  they  arrived  from  the  South.  Orderlies  galloped 
through  the  streets  on  their  errands,  and  congressmen  and 
ladies  mingled  with  the  throng  which  hurried  through  the 
principal  thoroughfares.  In  those  early  regiments  gray- 
bearded  men  marched  side-by-side  with  youths  and  boys 
hardly  in  their  ''teens." 

The  hardy  mountaineer  with  his  trusty  rifle  laughed  at 
the  raillery  of  the  youth  at  his  side,  fresh  from  the  mercan- 
tile counter,  or  ridiculed  the  fancy  boots  of  some  parlor- 
knight  who  rode,  nevertheless,  like  a   veteran  cavalryman. 

Aides-de-camp,  with  their  glittering  uniforms  and  polished 
accoutrements,  their  huge  boots  Teaching  nearly  to  their 
waists  and  enclosing  their  pantaloons,  dashing  the  Texas 
rowels  into  the  flanks  of  their  steeds,  hurried  past  as  if  the 
fate  of  the  country  depended  on  the  celerity  of  their  move- 
ments. Cavaliers  and  gay  young  Southern  girls — scions  of 
the  "F.  F.  V.'s"  -  go  dashing  past  to  view  the  evening  dress- 
parade  of  the  brigade  which  had  so  distinguished  itself  at 
Manassas.  As  they  pass  the  General  Hospital  their  gayety 
is  moderated,  the  speed  of  their  horses  is  slackened,  and 
hushed  voices  are  eloquent  with  patriotic  meaning. 

The  heroes  of  that  grand  battle  are  lying  there,  and  the 
groans  of  the  wounded  are  heard  without  the  building.  In 
the  rear,  stretched  on  tables,  lie  the  desperately  wounded,  to 


ETOWAH.  59 

whom  chloroform  has  been  administered,  and  the  scalpel  of 
the  surgeon  is  busy  amputating  limbs  and  casting  them 
aside  with  as  much  sang-froid  as  if  these  were  victims  of  the 
abattoir,  not  men  and  youths  from  the  proudest  families  of 
the  land. 

Side-by-side  were  ranged  the  cots  throughout  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  vast  building,  and  side-by-side  lay 
the  factory  operative  and  the  heir  to  a  wealthy  estate,  each 
a  private  soldier,  each  desperately  wounded  ;  for,  in  those 
gallant  days  of  genuine  patriotism,  the  wealthiest  and  the 
most  cultured  were  the  first  to  enlist,  and  they  were  singu- 
larly free  from  the  desire  to  rank  their  fellows,  or  claim  pre- 
cedence on  account  of  their  wealth. 

The  plowman  left  his  plowshare  standing  in  the  field ; 
the  mechanic  put  up  his  tools  for  more  peaceful  times ;  the 
professor,  the  lawyer,  the  physician,  the  minister,  the  stu- 
dent exchanged  the  library  for  the  bivouac  and  the  battle- 
field. There  were  private  soldiers,  worth  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  dollars,  who  refused  to  receive  any  pay  from 
the  government. 

Involuntarily,  it  seemed,  the  gentlemen  of  this  gay  cav- 
alcade took  ofi" their  hats,  and  the  ladies  bowed,  as  a  distin- 
guished looking  old  gentleman,  accompanied  by  a  beautiful 
young  girl,  stopped  and  scanned  the  portal  of  a  large  build- 
ing as  if  in  doubt  as  to  whether  it  was  the  place  he  was  seek- 
ing. The  girl  touched  his  arm  to  recall  his  pre-occupied 
mind  just  as  the  ladies  and  their  escorts,  divining  the  ob- 
ject of  his  search,  had  saluted  them.  With  native  dignity 
and  stately  courtesy  he  lifted  his  hat  to  return  the  unex- 
pected salutation,  but  resumed  immediately  his  observa- 
tions. He  was  seeking  to  find  a  son  who  had  been  wounded 
at  Manassas.     The  wind  blew  his  white  hair  to  and   fro  as 


60  ETOWAH. 

he  ascended  the  steps  of  the  hospital,armed  with  the  neces- 
sary authority  to  enter.  The  surgeon  met  them  at  the  door, 
and  the  face  of  the  kind-hearted  physician  told  them  that 
Hugh's  recovery  was  very  doubtful,  if  not  impossible. 

"Is  he  conscious,  doctor?"  asked  Colonel  Leslie. 

"No,  he  is  under  the  influence  of  opiates?" 

"Suppose  they  are  discontinued  ?" 

"Delirium  would  ensue  and,  perhaps,  result  fatally.  For 
the  present  good  nursing  is  our  best  auxiliary,  and  we  have 
the  best  in  the  world  here." 

"Let  me  nurse  my  poor,  darling  brother!"  said  Clara, 
with  an  appealing  look  to  the  surgeon. 

"It  would  be  the  worst  thing  you  could  do  for  him,  my 
dear  young  lady.  I  appreciate  your  feelings,  but  any  ex- 
citement now  will  be  fatal  to  your  brother.  " 

Clara  sank  in  a  chair  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would 
break. 

"Can  we  not  see  him,  doctor?"  asked  her  father. 

The  surgeon  hesitated,  then  said :  "I  will  not  take  the 
responsibility  of  refusing,  but  I  caution  you,  as  you  value 
his  life,  to  preserve  the  utmost  quiet ;  it  will  not  be  well  if 
Lieutenant  Leslie  recognizes  you." 

Then  he  slowly  preceded  them  through  the  hospital. 
There  were  hundreds  in  that  building,  and  the  scene,  amid 
the  groans  of  the  wounded  and  the  anguish  of  the  dying,  at- 
tended by  the  patient  care  and  watchfulness  of  those  white  - 
bonneted  Samaritans,  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  was  enough  to 
overcome  the  stoutest  heart.  In  the  quietest  corner,  near 
an  open  window,  slept  two  youths,  one  dressed  in  gray,  the 
other  in  blue. 

The  first  was  Hugh  Leslie,  the  second  Charles  Barnum, 
the  latter  dressed  in  the  Federal   uniform.     Had  they   not 


ETOWAH.  61 

respected  Hugh's  request  that  Barnum  should  be  rescued 
and  treated  just  as  he  was,  the  excitement  would  have  killed 
him.  Both  were  under  the  influence  of  morphine.  Hugh's 
face  and  hands  were  very  pale,  his  pulse  very  feeble,  himself 
very  quiet.  Barnum,  in  spite  of  an  uglier  wound,  seemed 
stronger.  Hugh's  lips  moved,  a  faint  flush  came  into  his 
cheeks  as,  half-raising  his  form,  in  delirium  he  uttered  a 
cheer.     The  gallant  boy  was  fighting  the  battle  over  again. 

Clara,  with  irresistible  impulse,  forgetting  her  promise, 
knelt  at  his  side  and  kissed  his  pallid  brow  and  lips,  and 
"smoothed  the  hair  on  that  pale,  white  forehead  very  carefully 
that  she  might  not  hurt  him. 

Hu2h  smiled  a  sweet,  gentle  smile  and  murmured  feebly  : 
"Clara,  Clara,  my  gentle  sister !"  then  sank  into  unconscious- 
ness. 

The  surgeon  lifted  her  up  and  drew  her  away  in  spite  of 
her  violent  sobs  which  seemed  about  to  break  her  loving 
heart.  Her  father,  as  he  neared  the  door,  could  only  utter  : 
"My  poor  boy,  my  poor  boy  !"  The  doctor  told  them  that 
Hugh's  life  depended  on  their  absenting  themselves  until 
the  cri-^is  had  passed,  assuring  them  that  he  would  warn 
them  in  time  whatever  might  b  '■  Hugh's  fate. 

America  had  no  "Red  Cross"*  associations  during  the 
civil  war,  nor  had  the  confederation  of  the  Red  Cross  been 
established  in  Europe  at  the  time  of  which  we  write.  The 
necessity  for  such  an  organization  had  been  suggested  by 
the  author  of  "The  Souvenir  de  Solferino,"  who  devised  a 
plan  to  "insure  efiicient  and  systematized  aid  to  the  wounded 
in  time  of  war,"  having  observed  the  necessity  of  such  an 
organization  at  the  battle  of  Solferino.  Had  there  been 
such  an  international   organization,  the  terrible   sufferings 


* 


See  "The  Red  Cross,"  by  H.  H.  S.  Thompson. 


62  ETOWAH. 

of  wounded  prisoners  in   Federal  and   Confederate  prisons 
would  have  been  avoided. 

The  Red  Cross  knows  no  national  or  state  lines,  knows  no 
man  as  a  foeman,  but  alleviates  alike  the  sufferings  of 
both  friend  and  foe. 

When  the  Franco-Prussian  war  was  declared,  "it  was  found 
that  Austria  had  2,170,000  francs  and  a  vast  supply  of  sani- 
tary material  in  its  possession,  besides  a  bureau  for  main- 
taining correspondence  in  eleven  different  languages." 

No  sign  of  the  Red  Cross  floated  over  any  hospital,  or 
ambulance,  or  building,  or  tent  on  any  Confederate  battle- 
field. The  magnificent  charities  lavished  by  neutral  na- 
tions to  succor  the  wounded  and  sick,  irrespective  of  the 
banner  under  which  they  fought,  were  denied  to  the  sol- 
diers of  the  Confederacy.  They  had  nothing  but  their  own 
strong  arms,  dauntless  courage,  and  peerless  self-sacrifice  to 
sustain  them  in  battling  for  the  right  of  Home  Rule,  with 
which  right  they  had  never  parted. 

Their  ports  were  blockaded ;  almost  the  entire  adult  male 
population  were  "enlisting  for  the  war;"  no  bounties  were 
offered  to  any  foreigners,  like  the  Hessians  of  Revolutionary 
times,  who  contributed  their  enormous  quota  to  the  ranks 
of  the  Federal  armies ;  no  friendly  nation  lent  its  aid ;  but 
despite  all  this,  the  cause  of  humanity  was  not  neglected, 
for  in  every  patrician  household,  as  in  the  humbler  ham- 
lets of  the  poor,  noble  women  lent  their  services  to  allevi- 
ate the  sufferings  of  Confederate  soldiers. 

Atlec'ion  outwits  the  shrewdest  vigilance  when  the  life  of 
a  lov-  d  o  '6  depends  upon  its  efforts.  It  was  not  long  before 
a  new  "Sifter"  was  admitted  in  the  hospital.  The  Mother- 
Superior  had  yielded  to  Clara's  solicitations  to  be  permitted 
temporarily  to  assume  the  garb  worn  at  the  Convent  of  the 
Sacred  Heart. 


ETOWAH.  63 

"  Sister  Eloise "  now  wore  the  conventional  dress,  of  the 
spotless  order,  which  has  proved  such  a  great  blessing  to 
humanity. 

Nothing  but  a  case  of  life  and  death  would  have  justified 
such  a  breach  of  Catholic  customs,  but  "Father  Ryan,"  the 
poet-priest  of  the  South,  urged  it,  and  it  was  done ;  for  here 
was  a  pure  young  life  which  might  be  moulded,  through  her 
aflfections,  into  accepting  this  faith  and  this  garb  for  life. 

The  sufifering  beggar,  even  the  anathematized  tramp,  is 
turned  away  from  other  doors,  but  when  he  knocks  at  the 
door  of  "  the  hospital  presided  over  by  the  Sisters,"  a  voice 
bids  him  enter. 

An  humble  cot,  a  crust  of  bread,  a  cup  of  water— these  at 
IcMst  he  may  have,  and,  when  the  morrow  dawns,  prayers 
for  his  conversion  and  redemption  are  offered  up,  however 
poor  his  station,  however  humble  his  garb. 

Hence  this  charity  to  Clara.  One  thing  was  enjoined  :  she 
was  to  keep  her  face  veiled,  and  she  was  required  in  all  re- 
spects to  conform  to  the  customs  of  the  order  as  if  this  was 
her  novitiate. 

As  a  Catholic,  the  Mother-Superior  was  perhaps  wrong. 

As  a  Protestant,  Clara  was  perhaps  wrong. 

As  a  Christian  and  human  being,  who  will  say  that  either 
of  them  was  wrong  ? 

For  many  days  Hugh's  condition  was  critical  in  the  ex- 
treme and  without  definite  change. 

Barnum  wa^  at  times  delirious ;  at  other  times  self-pos- 
sessed, quiet,  but  observant  of  what  transpired  around  him. 
Sister  Eloise  nursed  these  two.  Barnum  alluded  to  her  as 
"  La  Petite  Soeur.  " 

His  eyes  would  follow  her  graceful  figure  as  if  it  was  the 
vision  of  an  angel  soon  to  pass  from  his  sight.     His  ears 


64  ETOWAH. 

listened  longingly  to  the  soft  tones  of  her  sweet  voice  as  if  it 
was  divine  music.  He  seemed  to  relish  no  food  which  was 
not  brought  to  him  by  "  La  Petite  Soeur.  "  There  was  some- 
thing in  her  gentle  manner  and  light  loot-step  indescribably 
touching.  His  quick  ear  seemed  ever  eager  to  catch  the 
sound  of  that  footstep,  and  his  tine  face  would  light  up  with 
a  glad  smile  whenever  he  heard  its  soft  approach.  Clara 
had  never  heard  of  Barnum,  and,  while  she  felt  much  inter- 
est in  one  who  seemed  to  be  so  much  attached  to  Hugh,  she 
evinced  no  idle  curiosity.  She  could  not  understand  how 
two  youths,  evidently  in  opposing  armies,  should  be  such 
devoted  friends,  for  they  certainly  seemed  more  like  brothers 
than  enemies.  She  seemed  so  natural,  so  placid  and  calm 
yet  withal  so  gentle,  that  Surgeon  Battle  did  not  dream  that 
he  had  been  so  cleverly  outwitted.  One  day  Hugh  suddenly 
rallied,  and,  recognizing  Barnum,  spoke  to  him,  expressing 
a  desire  to  see  him  soon  restored  to  health. 

"  Do  not  worry  about  me,  Hugh ;  I  am  doing  famously 
well.  My  condition  will  depend  on  yours ;  so  cheer  up,  my 
friend ;  I  have  been  paroled  and  will  go  home  with  you  soon.'' 

Hugh  smiled,  then,  turning  his  head,  saw  a  kneeling  figure  • 
by  the  side  of  his  cot ;  he  got  a  glimpse  of  that  sweet  face  just 
as  Clara  had  clasped  her  hands  in  prayer,  and  had  turned 
her  head  to  avoid  recognition. 

''  Hush  1"  murmured  Hugh,  half  dozing  again  ;  "hush.  Bar- 
num; wait  a  moment  until  I  can  dream  again;  1  dreamed 
that  I  saw  my  sister." 

Hugh  closed  his  eyes,  the  doctor  drew  near,  and  feeling 
his  pulse,  motioned  to  the  "sister"  to  sit  by  his  side  and  fan 
his  brow  while  he  was  absent  from  the  room.  The  crisis 
was  now  at  hand.  Surgeon  Battle  had  now  gone  to  the  ante- 
room where  Colonel  Leslie  passed  his  days  and  nights.  He  had 


ETOWAH.  66 

decided  to  risk  all  upon  the  effects  of  a  joyful  reunion  of  that 
little  family. 

By-and-by  Hugh  opened  his  eyes,  looked  at  the  sweet 
face  bent  near  his  own,  smiled  and  gently  pressing  her  hand, 
he  uttered  these  words :  ''  Thand  God,  it  is  my  precious  sis- 
ter Clara !  Clara !  Clara !" 

To  kneel  beside  his  cot,  still  holding  that  thin,  wan  hand, 
whose  warmest  clasp  had  ever  been  given  to  her ;  to  caress 
and  kiss  that  face  of  her  brother  as  only  an  idolized  sister 
can — all  this  was  the  work  of  a  moment,  for  her  intuition 
told  her  that  the  critical  time  had  arrived.  Barnum,  leaning 
on  his  elbow,  witnessed  this  touchingly  beautiful  scene,  the 
pathos  of  which  seemed  to  enter  his  very  heart.  He  compre- 
hended all  now.  Not  so  the  others  who  had  seen,  but  had 
not  heard,  and  who  looked  with  amazement  at  this  unortho- 
dox conduct  of  a  Sister  of  Charity  !  The  sisters  were  shock- 
ed to  see  one  ot  their  Order,  even  though  she  was  only  a 
"  Novice,"  thus  caress  and  embrace  a  man  !  Silence  prevail- 
ed throughout  the  hall,  for  the  Mother-Superior  had  been 
from  cot  to  cot  urging  all  the  wounded  soldiers  to  suppress 
their  groans.  Hugh,  recognizing  Clara,  placed  his  thin  arm 
around  her  neck,  drew  her  face  down  to  his,  kissed  her  time 
and  again,  and  wept  for  joy ! 

"Send  instantly  for  Miss  Clara,  Colonel  Leslie,"  said  Sur- 
geon Battle ;  "the  time  for  a  reunion  is  at  hand ;  Hugh  will 
be  saved  or  he  will  die  in  the  next  twenty-four  hours." 

"Clara  is  here.     Let  us  go  at  once,"  said  Col.  Leslie. 

"Where  is  she?"  asked  the  surgeon. 

"She  has  been  at  Hugh's  bed-side  constantly." 

5 


66  '  ETOWAH. 

The  surgeon  understood  him  now.  "Come!"  he  said.  The 
veuerable  gentleman,  now  full  of  anxiety,  stood  near  his 
son's  cot.  Clara  raised  her  face  with  its  happy  glow  and 
happier  tears  saying :  "He  is  saved,  father!"  Col.  Leslie, 
with  assumed  cheerfalness,  taking  his  son's  hand  and  with 
the  other  arm  supporting  his  form,  which  Hugh,  by  a  great 
efifort,  had  raised  to  a  sitting  posture,  said  :  "Hugh,  my 
boy,  I've  found  the  deserter  at  last  and  the  doctor  says  I  can 
arrest  you." 

It  would  be  vain  to  attempt  to  describe  the  succeeding 
days,  when  all  the  conscious  inmates  of  that  crowded  hos- 
pital awaited  with  intense  interest  Hugh's  convalescence. 
Clara  was  greeted  by  those  wounded  soldiers  as  a  veritable 
princess  among  her  loyal  subjects;  for  never  did  an  oppor- 
tunity to  say  a  kind  word  or  ofier  some  delicate  attention 
escape  this  pure-hearted,  lovely  child-woman.  A  week  ago 
she  was  but  a  timid,  inexperienced  school-girl;  now  she 
seemed  to  have  at  one  step  passed  into  young  womanhood. 
Her  figure  was  faultless,  and  grace  was  as  natural  as  the  in- 
nate refinement  which  characterized  every  word  or  move- 
ment. Hugh's  conscious  intervals  were  brief  and  rare ;  and 
to  Barnum,  who  had  rapidly  improved,  fell* the  task  of 
cheering  her  with  hopes  of  Hugh's  speedy  convalescence. 
At  Col.  Pierce's  earnest  solicitation,  this  young  Federal  sol- 
dier had  been  placed  in  the  Confederate  Ho'^pital,  a  civil- 
ian's dress  having  been  procured  for  him  the  day  after  Col. 
Leslie's  arrival,  that  he  might  not  be  criticised  as  a  Federal 
soldier.     All  thought  he  would  die. 

He  was  now  so  much  better  that  it  became  Dr.  Battle's 
duty  to  report  that  he  was  physically  able  to  be  assigned  to 


ETOWAH.  67 

his  quarters  in  prison.  The  order  for  his  removal  had  been 
prepared,  when  Hugh  Leslie  suddenly  grew  worse,  and  the 
crisis  was  too  near  at  hand  to  admit  of  any  sudden  excite- 
ment as  the  removal  of  Barnum  would  have  been.  The  or- 
der was  therefore  delayed  a  few  days,  and  finally  he  was 
released  on  parole  at  Col.  Leslie's  request.  In  two  days 
Hugh  died.  Before  his  death  he  was  conscious  for  a  long 
time,  and  after  leaving  various  bequests,  among  them  a 
legacy  to  his  servant,  Bingo,  a  negro  youth  about  his  age, 
who  had  been  all  his  life,  as  had  his  parents,  a  slave  of  Col. 
Leslie. 

Then,  placing  Clara's  hand  in  Barnum's,  he  said  in  clear 
tones  :  "Barnum,  I  am  going  to  die — yes,  I  am  dying.  No 
one  can  tell  how  this  war  will  end.  It  may  be  in  your  power 
to  befriend  my  poor  sister,  my  dear  old  father — remember." 
The  sobs  of  Bingo  became  so  audible  that  he  had  to  be  led 
away.  The  father  held  Hugh's  left  hand;  to  him  he  en- 
deavored to  speak,  but  the  rattle  in  his  throat  proclaimed 
dissolution  and  all  that  was  audible  was  :  "It  is  the  fate  of 
war ;  I  am  not  afraid  to  die.  Take  care  of  Barnum  !"  Thus 
he  died.  And  far  to  the  South,  in  her  home,  fanned  by  the 
breezes  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  where  the  orange  and  the 
lemon  trees  meet  the  banner-like  leaves  of  the  banana,  his 
loYely  fiancee,  read  the  crushing  news. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
\ 

CONCERNING  THE  "mOUND  BUILDERS." 

The  alchemy  of  time  is  the  panacea  of  life,  and  Colonel 
Leslie  and  Clara,  after  months  of  grief  at  the  loss  of  son  and 
brother,  did  all  in  their  power  to  make  the  time  of  the  con- 
valescing soldier  paes  as  pleasantly  as  possible. 

Lieutenant  Barnum,  a  prisoner  on  parole,  was  permitted 
to  visit  Colonel  Leslie's  summer  home,  "  Intervale, "  a  lovely 
home  in  a  picturesque  part  of  the  Piedmont  region.  His 
journey  South  had  caused  his  wound  to  bleed  anew,  and  he 
had  to  experience  the  same  hospital  treatment  again,  so  that 
months  elapsed  before  he  approached  convalescence. 

Now,  however,  he  was  enabled  to  throw  his  crutches  aside^ 
and  his  conscience  admonished  him  that  he  should  resign 
his  office  in  the  Union  army  or  return  to  his  duties  as  a 
soldier.  To  do  this  meant  to  fight  these  kind  friends  who 
had  saved  his  life,  and  the  sentiment  of  patriotism  had  a 
strong  struggle  for  the  mastery.  He  had  learned  to  appreci- 
ate the  character  of  Colonel  Leslie  as  the  noblest  he  had 
ever  known  among  men,  and  a  stronger  sentiment  than 
patriotism  touched  his  heart  with  the  gentlest  impulse  as 
he  thought  of  the  fair  young  Samaritan,  Clara  Leslie. 

Colonel  Leslie  was  standing  in  his  library  one  morning, 
examining  closely  an  image  of  curious  character,  as  Barnum 
entered  to  announce  that  he  was  ready  to  carry  out  an  ad- 
venture planned  between  them,  that  the  young  Northerner 
might  gain  a  correct  idea  of  the  practical  workings  of  slavery. 

''  I  came  in  to  tell  you  that  I  am  ready  for  the  interview 


ETOWAH.  69 

with  old  Zeke,  though  I  hardly  think  I  can  interest  'Our 
Brother  in  Black,'  as  Dr.  Paygood  calls  the  negro,  "  said 
Barnum. 

"I  shall  be  much  interested,  at  any  rate,  to  hear  of  your 
views  as  to  slavery  after  you  have  '  interviewed,'  as  you  call 
it,  my  old  gardener.  You  will  have  to  disguise  yourself  well 
to  deceive  Zeke,"  said  Colonel  Leslie,  laughing. 

"A  new  chefd^oeavre,  Colonel?"  asked  Barnum,  examining 
the  image. 

"  Yes,  and  the  most  interesting  one  in  my  little  collection. 
It  was  brought  to  me  yesterday  from  one  of  the  largest 
Tumuli  in  this  State,  on  my  upper  plantation.  " 

"  That  is  near  the  river,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes;  you  have  doubtless  seen  it;  it  is  not  far  distant  by 
rail,  and,  if  you  like,  we  will  go  there  to-morrow.  " 

"  I  have  an  engagement  to  go  to  the  mountain  with  Miss 
Olara  to-morrow. " 

"  Ah  !  well,  then,  some  other  da}^  will  do.  See  these  hier- 
oglyphics, they  seem  to  be  Egyptian,  but  they  are  doubtless 
of  Aztec  origin." 

"The  'Mound  Builders'  were  not  Indians,  then,  in  your 
opinion  ?  "  asked  Barnum. 

"They  certainly  belonged  to  an  entirely  different  race. 
The  American  Indians  know  nothing,  either  from  tradition 
or  otherwise,  of  the  Mound  Builders.  There  are  innumera- 
ble historical  links  connecting  the  ancient  Mexicans  with 
Egypto-Indo  races.  Marine  shells  that  abound  in  Hindoo- 
stan,  but  are  unknown  here,  are  found  in  the  American 
Mounds.  We  are  in  the  habit  of  calling  this  the  New 
World.  It  is  certain,  thanks  to  these  earthen  pyramidal 
mounds,  that    two    races,  as  separate   and  distinct  as  the 


70  ETOWAH. 

native  of  Hindoostan  and  the  American  Indian,  inhabited 
this  continent  long  before  the  conquest  of  Mexico.  It  is 
almost  equally  certain  that  the  Indian,  so-called,  is  the 
more  modern  of  the  two  as  regards  American  settlement." 

Barnum  examined  the  idol  to  which  his  host  alluded, 
and  there  plainly  to  be  seen  were  chjracters  that  resembled 
hieroglyphics.  "  The  theory,"  he  said,  '^  is  a  new  one  to  me, 
and  of  course  I  cannot  express  an  opinion,  but  this  ugly 
little  idol  does  indicate  that  it  was  not  the  Indian  nor  his 
progenitors  who  placed  them  there.  What  evidence  have 
you  as  to  the  antiquity  of  these  mounds  ?  " 

"  Go  with  me  and  see  the  trees  of  vast  size  that  are  grow- 
ing on  these  ancient  mounds.  The  number  of  annular 
layers  around  them  demonstrate  their  great  antiquity. 
Many  of  the  trees  are  probably  five  hundred  years  old.  But 
the  most  convincing  fact  is  that  the  skeletons  found  in  these 
mounds  are  often  entire  and  well  preserved,  and  the  earth 
around  them  is  dry  and  compact.  Now,  the  skeletons  found 
in  Great  Britain,  having  an  undoubted  antiquity  of  eighteen 
hundred  years,  are  greatl}^  decomposed.  It  is,  therefore,  sup- 
posed that  the  age  of  most  of  the  monuments  built  by  the 
'  Mound  Builders'  is  two  thousand  years.  " 

"  But  I  have  heard, "  said  Barnum,  "  that  a  cross  was 
found  on  the  pinnacle  of  the  '  Temple  of  the  Sun  '  at  Cuzco, 
and  that  temple  was  built  by  the  people  who  built  these 
great  mounds  probably.  If  that  is  true  it  will  show  that 
the  religion  of  the  descendants  at  least  of  the  '  Mound 
Builders '  had  a  knowledge  of  Christianity,  and  yet  this 
temple  is  a  very  ancient  one  " 

"Mistakes  have  arisen,"  replied  Colonel  Leslie,  "about 
that  discovery  in  Yucatan ;  also  from  the  triune  vessel  found 


ETOWAH.  71 

in  one  of  the  mounds  in  Ohio,  which  seemed  to  indicate  a 
knowledge  of  the  Trinity.  Really  it  indicates  their  Hindoo 
origin.  " 

"  In  what  way  ?  "  said  Barnum,  taking  a  seat  and  evidently 
much  interested. 

''  The  symbol  of  the  cross  is  older  than  Christianity,  "  said 
Colonel  Leslie.  '•  It  was  the  emblem  of  the  goddess,  Astarte. 
It  was  found  on  one  of  the  bas-reliefs  at  Pompeii,  and 
the  early  Christians  knew  that  it  was  a  sacred  emblem  among 
Pagan  nations.  The  Hindoos  often  wear  a  cross  appended 
to  a  rosary,  and  Brahma  is  ofcen  represented  as  holding  one 
in  his  hands.  The  devotions  of  the  Ascetics  are  still  made 
by  counting  their  beads,  the  rosary  being  still  used  in  Thibet 
and  China.  The  Tartars  carry  crosses,  and  the  Mongols 
regard  it  as  sacred,  and  it  is  seen  in  the  Pagodas.  Copper 
crosses  and  necklaces  of  beads  have  been  found  on  skeletons 
found  in  American  Mounds,  but  they  do  not  indicate,  as 
many  suppose,  that  the  Mound  Builders  had  any  knowledge 
of  Christianity.  The  Temples  of  the  Sun  at  Cuzco,  Queretaro, 
Mizteca,  Tepique,  and  Trianquiztepec,  are  celebrated  for 
their  great  crosses.  It  is  owing  to  traditions,  then,  that  the 
Aztecs,  imbued  with  the  same  superstition  that  made  the 
Patagonians  tattoo  their  foreheads  with  a  figure  of  a  cross, 
worshipped  crosses  in  wood  and  stone. " 

•'  I  am  thankful  that  opportunity  has  favored  me  with 
this  instructive  conversation.  I  can  realize  now  that  the 
Smithsonian  Institute  is  but  the  beginning  of  American 
investigation  " 

''That  is  true;  the  National  Museum  should  contain 
mummies  from  the  caves  of  Kentucky,  as  well  as  from  Peru 
and  Egypt.     Museums  constitute  the  true  '  Kindergarten' 


72  ETOWAH. 

for  the  masses.  If  the  brain  was  extracted  from  the  Ken- 
tucky or  Peruvian  mummies  by  the  nostrils,  we  know 
whence  their  ancestors  came,  for  it  was  a  custom  peculiar  to 
the  Tyrians. " 

"  Well,  where  do  you  think  the  Indians  came  from  ?  " 
asked  Barnum. 

"The  American  Indian  is  a  dififerent  type  of  the  Red  race, 
just  as  the  copper-colored  Bushmen  of  South  Africa  dififer 
from  the  negroes  of  Congo,  or  the  natives  of  the  Queen  of 
Sheba's  country.  The  books  written  to  prove  their  descent 
from  one  of  the  lost  tribes  of  Israel  are  refuted  by  a  simple 
physiological  fact:  how  can  bearded  Hebrew  ancestors  have 
descendants  who,  to  a  man,  though  scattered  throughout  this 
continent,  are  beardless  ?  Neither  have  the  American  In- 
dians any  traditions  linking  them  either  with  the  Hebrews 
or  with  the  Mound  Builders. 

"A  lieutenant  in  the  United  States  Nav}^,  who  is  a  distant 
relative  of  mine,  was  with  Commodore  Wilkes  during  his 
four  years'  cruise,  beginning  in  1839,  coasting  the  Pacific 
Islands  as  well  as  Asia  and  Africa.  He  stated  to  me  that 
this  subject  was  one  to  which  he  gave  the  closest  attention. 
The  conclusion  arrived  at  was  that  the  American  Indian 
and  the  Malay  were  one  and  the  same  race,  the  latter  having 
been  changed  by  circumstances  of  time  and  place.  They 
bear  a  striking  resemblance  to  each  other,  whether  seen  in 
Canada,  Florida,  Peru,  or  Brazil.  " 

"lam  glad,"  he  continued,  "that  you  take  an  interest  in 
such  subjects,  because  in  this  country  investigations  of  this 
nature  must  be  conducted  chiefly  by  individuals  and  at 
their  own  expense.  Our  government" — At  this  remark, 
Barnum  could  not   repress  a   smile,  which   Colonel  Leslie 


ETOWAH.  73 

noticed  by  adding,  "Excuse  me;  your  government,  I  should 
have  said  ;  it  will  be  time  enough  to  criticise  our  govern- 
ment when  we  become  independent.  The  Government  of 
the  United  States,  then,  has  scarcely  begun  its  investigations 
as  to  the  Mound  Builders.  But  should  you  go  to  Boston, 
that  most  enlightened  of  American  cities,  you  will  have  an 
opportunity  of  comparing  some  images  and  vases,  collected 
from  the  mounds  on  the  Etowah,  which  I  have  sent  to  the 
Museum  of  Fine  Arts  there,  with  the  Hay  collection  which 
forms  nearly  all  the  Egyptian  department  in  the  Museum  of 
Fine  Arts  at  Boston." 

"Who  was  Hay,  and  where  did  he  get  his  collection?" 
asked  Barnum. 

"To  answer  that  question  may  seem  egotistical. 
While  Clara  was  at  school  in  Geneva,  Switzerland,  I 
visited  the  principal  Museums  in  Europe,  and  became  much 
interested  in  Etruscan  antiquities  and  in  the  fragments  of 
Egyptian  art,  which  had  been  excavated  in  Egypt  by  Dro- 
vette,  Salt,  Hay,  Belzoni  and  others,  and  by  them  sold  for 
enormous  sums  to  crowned  heads  and  wealth)^  virtuosi.  In 
the  past  hundred  years  the  Egyptian  galleries  of  European 
Museums  were  thus  enriched.  I  became  so  much  interested 
that,  last  year,  I  went  to  Egypt  myself  and  found  there  the 
noblest-minded  investigator  I  ever  met.  His  object  was  not 
to  make  money,  but  to  restore  the  lost  links  of  history. 
His  name  is  Auguste  Mariette,  and  he  is  still  there  prose- 
cuting his  studies  and  work. 

"Together  we  followed  the  line  of  the  obelisk  avenue,where 
he  had  unburied  the  temple  ruins,  thus  laying  bare  an  un- 
paralleled profusion  of  inscribed  stones,  columns,  bas-reliefs, 


74  ETOWAH. 

obelisks  and  works  of  sculpture  wonderful  to  behold.     This 
exquisite  specimen  is  from  there." 

He  had  turned  to  another  cabinet  and  had  taken  the  ob- 
ject he  referred  to  as  he  spoke  :  "Now  see  these  characters, 
or  hieroglyphics,  and  examine  the  characters  on  this  image, 
found,  last  week  in  one  of  the  great  mounds  on  my  planta- 
tion. It  is  made  of  silver  ore  and  must  have  been  brought 
from  Mexico.  Who  were  the  'Mound  Builders?'  Why 
this  resemblance  to  some  of  the  Egyptian  treasures  that  have 
been  buried  under  ihe  sands  of  Egypt,  perhaps,  for  a  thous- 
and years  ?" 

''I  notice,"  said  Barnum,  "that  the  palm  of  the  right  hand 
of  the  image  from  the  Etowah  Mound  is  open,  while  the 
other  is  inverted;  is  that  usual?" 

"No.  I  never  saw  one  like  it  in  that  respect.  Zeke  says 
it  is  held  out  for  money,  and  I  think  th'^  old  darkey's  theory 
is  as  sensible  as  any  that  can  be  advanced.  It  was  probably 
designed  to  receive  alms." 

"Before  I  go,  let  me  ask  you  how  you  became  so  much  in- 
terested in  such  investigations  ?  The  subject  is  full  of  in- 
terest !  but  few  Americans  have  the  leisure  to  prosecute  it," 
said  Barnum. 

"Few  Americans  take  the  leisure,  you  mean.  Of  all  people 
on  earth,  I  think  our  people  the  most  illogical  in  their  mad 
pursuit  of  wealth.  The  daily  newspaper  seems  to  satisfy 
their  intellectual  desires,  and  it  is  onlv  the  chosen  few  who 
enjoy  music  and  the  arts.  We  do  not  give  enough  time  to 
recreation  in  America.  The  country  is  new,  and  the  poorer 
classes,  especially  where  slavery  prevails,  have  very  few  op- 
portunities to  enjoy,  and  at  the  same  time  improve  them- 
selves." 


ETOWAH.  75 

"You  do  not  speak  like  a  slave-holder,  Colonel,"  said  Bar- 
num ;  "that  expression  sounds  like  the  opinion  of  a  New 
Englander." 

Placing  his  hand  on  Barnum's  shoulder,  Col.  Leslie  said  : 
"My  young  friend,  I  am  not  a  slave-holder  from  choice,  and 
there  are  thousands,  like  myself,  who  would  be  more  than 
pleased  to  live,  had  Providence  so  ordained  it,  where  slavery 
had  never  set  its  seal.  It  is  something  for  which  we  are 
not  responsible ;  but  the  welfare  of  our  slaves,  as  far  as  it  is 
in  our  power  to  promote  it,  is  something  for  which  we  are 
responsible.  The  negroes  in  America  are  but  a  century  re- 
moved from  savages,  and  yet  they  have  progressed  more 
rapidly,  in  all  that  pertains  to  civilization  in  one  hundred 
years  under  our  mild  system  of  slavery  in  the  Southern 
States  of  America,  than  in  one  thousand  3^ears  in  any  other 
country  on  the  globe.  The  slavery  here  is  a  vast  improve- 
ment over  that  to  which  they  were  accustomed  in  Africa. 

"It  is  an  unfortunate  system  for  the  'poor  whites,' "  sug- 
gested Barnum. 

"Yes,  the  effect  of  slavery  upon  the  social  condition  of  the 
class  known  as  'poor  whites'  here  is  deplorable.  There  is 
little  here  to  elevate  the  taste  of  the  white  laboring  man, 
and  make  him  aspire  to  rise  above  his  surroundings;  noth- 
ing in  our  cities  like  the  Kensington  Museum  or  Sydenham 
Palace  in  London,  or  the  Cooper  Union  and  Free  Reading 
Rooms  of  New  York  city.  Of  course,  however,  such 
amusements  would  not  interest  'semi-civilized  negroes.'" 

"Then  you  do  not  mean  to  have  your  remark  concerning 
the  social  condition  of  your  'poor  class'  applied  to  the   ne- 

> 

groes  here,  although  they  constitute  the  greater  part  of  your 
poorer  class?"  replied  Barnum. 


76  ETOWAH. 

'^No;  for  our  negroes  would  not  enjoy  or  appreciate  the 
pleasures  afforded  to  Europeans  accustomed  for  centuries  to 
the  highest  civilization.  Take  Paris  for  example.  I  do  not 
remember  having  seen  but  one  negro  while  there  last,  and 
my  sojourn  was  of  six  months'  duration." 

'I  am  curious  to  know  what  he  was  doing,"  said  Barnum. 

Colonel  Leslie  laughed  heartily  at  this  remark  as  he  re- 
called the  incident.  ''He  was  waltzing  at  the  Closerie  de  Li- 
las  with  quite  a  pretty  girl,  and  I  think  she  was  the  only 
blonde  in  the  assemblage,"  he  answered. 

"Waltzing  with  a  white  girl !"  said  Barnum. 

"Yes,"  dryly  answered  his  host  as  he  lighted  a  fresh  cigar, 
oflering  another  to  Barnum. 

"And  were  you  not  shocked?" 

"Not  in  the  least  bit ;  I  was  amused.  It  was  in  June  two 
years  ago,  if  I  remember  aright.  A  little  incident  like  that 
in  Paris  would  not  shock  any  intelligent  person." 

"Why  ?"  said  Barnum ;  "it  would  shock  you  terribly  to 
see  it  done  here." 

"Not  more  so  than  it  would  shock  that  young  negro  stu- 
dent from  Algiers  to  waltz  with  one  of  our  young  negro 
girls  here,"  replied  Colonel  Leslie. 

"You  amaze  me!"  answered  Barnum.  "Why  should  he 
be  shocked  ?" 

"Would  you  not  be?"  replied  his  host.  "Would  you 
waltz  with  one,  Barnum  ?" 

"No,  certainly  not.  I  would  not  ride  in  the  same  vehicle 
with  one!"  said  Barnum. 

"What  absurd  prejudice  !"  said  Colonel  Leslie.  "No  South- 
ern man  feels  any  repugnance  to  the  negro  per  se,  so  long  as 
he  or  she,  as  the  case  may  be,  knows  his  or  her  place.  Now, 


ETOWAH.  77 

consider  the  facts:  Paris  has  nearly  two  millions  of  people, 
and  among  all  that  number  I  never  saw  but  this  one  young 
negro  man.  He  spoke  French  fluently,  for  indeed,  Algiers 
being  a  French  Province,  French  is  his  native  language. 
He  lived  in  the  'Latin  Quarter'  with  other  students,  and 
his  life  was,  in  all  respects,  the  same  as  theirs.  Neither  he 
nor  they  thought  of  any  social  inferiority.  His  education 
was  as  good;  his  social  connections  were  probably  the  best 
in  Algiers;  his  nose  was  nearly  aquiline;  his  manner  as 
little  like  a  slave's  as  is  yours ;  and  in  nothing,  except  a 
black  skin  and  woolly  hair  did  he  resemble  the  Congo  negro. 
It  is  probable  that  his  family  has  been  educated  for  several 
generations." 

"Well,  I  declare  !"  was  all  that  Barnum  could  say  in  repl)^ 
Here  was  the  owner  of  five  hundred  negro  slaves,  a  cul- 
tured gentleman,  whose  views  as  to  the  negro  per  se  were  as 
advanced  as  those  of  the  most  enlightened  thinkers  at  the 
North.  He  would  have  willingly  emancipated  his  slaves 
if  he  could  have  benefited  them  by  doing  so,  and  could 
have  received  a  tenth  of  their  value  in  United  States  Gov- 
ernment bonds,  but  no  proposition  of  this  nature  had  ever 
been  made  by  the  government.  He  was  a  slave-holder 
from  principle  as  well  as  from  right;  for  what  would  have 
become  of  his  five  hundred  slaves  if  they  were  suddenly 
emancipated  while  all  the  others  remained  in  the  condition 
of  slavery?  No  more  helpless  creature  lived  than  the  aver- 
age "free  nigger"  in  a  country  where  African  slavery  pre- 
vailed by  constitutional  enactment.  He  inherited  them, 
and  all  he  could  do  was  to  be  as  kind  a  master  as  circum- 
stances permitted. 
Colonel  Leslie  continued :   "Let  us  suppose  that  all  the 


78  ETOWAH. 

negro  slaves  in  the  Southern  States  were  emancipated  in 
order  to  appreciate  the  question  fully.  Now,  we  have  five 
millions  of  people  in  the  present  Confederate  States,"^  con- 
siderably over  one-third  of  whom  are  negro  slaves.  Suppose 
there  were  not  exceeding  five  hundred  negroes  in  all  our 
population,  or  one  negro  to  ten  thousand  whites,  would  his 
conduct  be  regulated  by  the  color  of  his  skin  or  by  the  rela- 
tive education  and  contingent  advantages  possessed  by  him? 
Would  it  make  any  difference  to  the  ten  thousand  if  the  one 
negro  should  be  received  on  terms  of  equality  by  those  who 
chose  to  do  so  ?  " 

"  I  see  the  point  now,"  said  Barnum,  "  and  I  wish  the 
whole  North  could  see  it.  Where  the  two  races  are  nearly 
equal  in  numbers,  civilization  itself  demands  that  certain 
barriers  should  keep  them  apart." 

"  That  is  it ;  and,  like  you,  I  wish  that  the  whole  North 
could  realize  that  there  is  a  vast  difference  between  granting 
certain  social  rights  to  a  few  negroes  or  Chinamen — say  one 
in  one  thousand  even — and  in  according  the  same  rights 
where  the  races  are  nearly  equal  in  numbers.  Especially  is 
this  a  dangerous  prerogative  where  universal  suffrage  pre- 
vails" 

"  The  Northern  people,"  said  Barnum,  "think  that  the 
same  results  would  attend  the  emancipation  of  the 
negroes  which  attended  the  emancipation  of  the  white 
slaves  in  the  Northern  States  — known  generally  under  the 
name  of  '  term  slaves,'  or  'redemptioners',  in  colonial  days. 
Of  these  '  free-willers  '  and  '  indented  servants,'  many,  at  the 
expiration  of  their  term  of  service,  became  respectable  and 

'•'The  six  cotton-planting  States  only  were  included  in  this  early  estimate. 


ETOWAH.  79 

were  absorbed  in  the  middle  class."     To  this  remark  Colonel 
Leslie  did  not  respond. 

"  It  must  require  great  enthusiasm,  to  say  the  least,"  sug- 
gested Barnum,  returning  to  the  subject  first  under  discus- 
sion, "  to  pursue  such  investigations  in  so  monotonous  a 
country  as  Egypt  for  such  disinterested  purposes  as  you 
say  Mr.  Mariette  does." 

"  Ah !  there  you  betray,  my  young  friend,  the  utilitarian- 
ism that  is  dwarfing  in  the  minds  of  Americans  the  no- 
blest and  most  beautiful  studies.  Could  you  see,  as  I  have 
seen,  a  '  diligence  '  filled  with  German  students,  accompanied 
by  their  tutor,  during  the  summer  vacation,  suddenly  va- 
cated as  one  of  the  number  leaps  from  it  to  gather  what  he 
supposes  to  be  the  Alpine  rose  amid  the  eternal  snows  of  the 
beautiful  Alps ;  could  you  hear  their  animated  discussion 
concerning  this  flower,  or  that  rifted  rock,  you  would  appre- 
ciate at  a  glance  what  a  world  of  beauty  is  that  unfolded  by 
the  geologist  and  botanist.  Earth,  sky,  sea,  air,  life  itself 
becomes  larger  and  more  comprehensive,  and  every  atom  in 
it  of  increasing  interest.  So  it  is  with  the  mind  of  my  friend 
Mariette,  who  designs  turning,  cleaning  and  dating  every 
inscribed  stone  and  copying  the  inscriptions,  as  well  as  pho- 
tographing and  measuring  every  object  of  interest  in  the 
ruins." 

"  For  what  end?"  asked  the  practical  young  Northerner. 

"  The  truth  of  history.  His  excavations  of  the  disputed 
Mound  of  Maskhutab,  and  discovery  of  the  long-sought 
treasure-city  of  Pithom,  in  the  language  of  a  recent  writer, 
'  achieved  the  most  brilliant  Biblical  identification  of  modern 
times.'  To  Mariette  the  mental  pleasure  afibrded  to  Tyndall 
and  other  Alpine  enthusiasts  by  the  Alpine  flower  and  the 


80  ETOWAH. 

storm-rifted  crags  was  concentrated  in  the  debris  of  the 
temple  where  was  once  the  sacred  place  of  Tanis.  Obelisks 
that  lay  shattered,  sculptured  blocks,  lettered  stones,  and 
statues  in  countless  profusion,  meant  for  him  an  inspired  mes- 
sage." 

"And  these  mounds  of  America?"  asked  Barnum. 

''May  reveal  to  us  whence  America  was  first  peopled,"  an- 
swered his  host.  ''Take  the  American  Indian,  and  he  re- 
sembles the  ethnic  type  which  is  to  this  day  characteristic 
of  upper  Egypt.  The  high  cheek-bones  are  alike  in  each- 
But  the  Indian  has  no  ceramic  jars  and  vases  and  bowls  like 
this  one;  nor  has  he  any  tradition  which  will  go  to  explain 
by  whom  these  idols  were  worshipped.  His  ancestors,  so  far 
as  he  knows,  had  no  household  goods  and  gods." 

"Such  men  as  your  friend,  Mariette,  would  find  America 
very  uninteresting,"  suggested  Barnum. 

"Yes,  even  Dickens,  that  master  in  the  art  of  analyzing 
human  character,  found  the  so-called  'New  World'  tame 
and  uninteresting.  But  Mexico  and  Peru  would  be  an  in- 
tellectual paradise  for  Mariette.  Scientists  become  absorbed 
in  their  special  pursuits.  Hugh  Miller,  for  example,  saw 
England  through  the  glasses  of  the  geologist  alone;  and  the 
'Upper  Silurian,'  or  the  'New  Red  Sandstone,'  clogs  his  work 
to  the  exclusion  of  minor  but  interesting  details.  Take 
architecture :  to  one  familiar  with  the  different  stvles,  it 
seems  as  a  landmark — as  a  guide  through  the  labyrinth  of 
history.  It  stands  toward  the  student  of  history  n  the  same 
light  in  which  rocks  and  mineralogical  formations  do  to  the 
geologist,  or  the  aquatic  inhabitants  to  the  investigator  into 
the  physical  geography  of  the  sea.  Take,  for  instance, 
the    Kenil  worth     Castle     in     England,     or    the     Castle 


ETOWAH.  81 

of  Heidleberg  in  Germany.  The  Castle  of  Heidleberg 
contained,  and  consolidated  into  one  whole,  eight  palaces  of 
eight  separate  princes,  and  of  eight  different  epochs.  The 
choicest  results  of  the  best  styles  of  architecture  during  four 
hundred  years  are  found  in  that  magnificent  building,  in 
which  dwelt  the  Counts  of  the  Rhine,  the  Dukes  of  Bavaria, 
the  Kings  of  Bohemia  and  the  Emperors  of  Germany.  Now, 
the  student  of  the  thirty  years'  war,  which  began  in  1620,  will 
see  here  a  castle  which  was  four  times  besieged,  taken  and 
retaken,  and  twice  bombarded.  The  manner  in  which  cas- 
tles were  built  in  those  stormy  days  will  show  the  character 
of  the  people  and  the  mode  of  warfare  and,  in  a  measure, 
their  mode  of  life." 

''I  understand,"  said  Barnum,  ''but  permit  me  to  say  that 
for  an  American  "ignorance  is  bliss."  How  can  one  who  has 
seen  so  much,  be  contented  in  this  new  country  which  has 
no  ruins  except  those  left  by  the  'Mound  Builders?'  " 

"On  the  contrary,"  replied  his  host,  "it  makes  all  that  we 
have  doubly  interesting.  Nature  is  a  grand  instructor  every- 
where. For  example,  it  was  a  large  water-lily,  seven  feet  in 
diameter,  showing  the  peculiar  structure  of  the  under  side 
of  the  leaf,  which  suggested  the  cellular  structure  of  ironclads 
and  other  large  vessels.  The  radiating  ribs  or  veins  resemble 
girders,  and  form  many  hundred  air-tight  cells,  giving  re- 
markable buoyancy  to  the  leaf,  a  single  leaf  having  been 
known  to  support  a  weight  of  400  pounds.  So  with  the 
spider's  web  which  has  suggested  many  valuable  inven- 
tions." 

"That  is  true,"  answed  Barnum,  with  the  manner  of  a 

listener. 

6 


82  ETOWAH. 

Col.  Leslie  continued  :  "It  required  American  talent  to  in- 
vent steam,  telegraphy  and  the  s^reafc  science  of  the  physical 
geography  of  the  sea.  Nearly  all  the  pursuits  of  the  human 
mind  in  the  old  world  are  beaten  paths,  and  Humboldt,  the 
master  of  the  respective  thirty  sciences,  found  America  in- 
finitely more  interesting  as  a  continent  than  Europe.  The 
snow-line  on  the  Alps  is  at  an  altitude  of  8,000  to  9,000  feet 
above  the  sea,  but  the  snow-line  on  the  latitude  of  Popocate- 
petl in  Mexico  is  15,000  feet  ab:)ve  the  sea-level.  The  vil- 
lage of  San  Pedro  there  is  12,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea,  and  nothing  on  earth  can  be  grander  than  the  glisten- 
ing sunset,  or  moon-light  upon  the  cold  summits  of  Popocat- 
epetl and  Iztaccihuatl,  or  the  snow-clad  heights  of  Orizaba, 
far  away  toward  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  To  appreciate  our  own 
continent,  we  should  first  see  Europe,  and  we  will  find  that 
nature's  grandest  achievements  are  on  the  continent  of  North 
America." 

"Mr.  Barnum,  are  you  ready  for  our  game  of  chess  ?"  asked 
Clara,  appearing  at  the  door  at  this  juncture. 

"Yes;  I  will  answer  for  him,  my  daughter,  for  I  have  been 
boring  him  terribly  for  the  last  half  hour." 

"Not  so,  sir;  it  is  the  most  instructive  conversation  I  ever 
had,"  said  Barnum,  who  withdrew  to  the  sitting-room  with 
his  fair  young  hostess.  The  smile  which  lighted  his  face  as 
he  heard  her  voice  indicated  that  the  game  he  was  playing 
was  more  serious  than  chess,  though  Clara  seemed  utterly 
unconscious  of  it. 

They  had  hardly  begun  the  game  when  visitors  were  an- 
nounced, and  Barnum  sauntered  forth  to  pursue  his  investi- 
gations. 

In  this  solitary  walk,  Barnum  reflected  upon  the  novel 


ETOWAH.  83 

situation  in  which  he  was  placed.  Though  a  guest  in  the 
home  of  a  friend  whose  efforts  in  his  behalf  had  cost  him  his 
life,  was  he  not  in  fact  an  enemy?  Every  noble  impulse 
counselled  him  to  terminate  his  visit,  even  at  the  cost  of 
imprisonment  at  Belle  Isle  in  Richmond.  He  was  still  a 
soldier  in  the  United  States  army,  and  to  the  cause  of  the 
Union  he  owed  his  allegiance;  and  yet,  during  his  long 
stay  as  an  invalid  in  that  hospitable  home,  not  one  word 
that  could  be  offensive  to  him  had  been  uttered  in  his  pres- 
ence. He  knew  that  the  feeling  of  the  populace  generally 
was  as  bitter  against  the  United  States  Government  as  it 
had  been  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  original  thirteen 
Colonies  in  1776,  against  Great  Britain.  Georgia  was  one  of 
those  Colonies ;  New  York,  his  native  State,  was  another, 
and  shoulder  to  shoulder  they  had  fought  for  American  in- 
dependence. 

Now  these  two  States  were  at  war  with  each  other. 

''Indeed,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  every  man's  life  in  these 
days  is  a  romance ;  "  for  in  another  week,  probably,  he 
would  be  enroute  to  Richmond  to  yield  himself  a  prisoner 
of  war  according  to  the  terms  of  his  parole. 

Barnum's  reflections  reverted  also  to  the  conversations 
with  Colonel  Leslie  regarding  the  ''poor  whites"  of  the  South, 
and  he  thought  that  it  was  doubtful  if  the  poor  whites  in 
Northern  cities  were  as  comfortable  and  as  well  cared  for  as 
the  negro  slaves  here.  He  reflected  that  in  one  ward  in 
New  York  city  there  are  500,000  people  living  in  18,000 
houses,  and  that  the  death-rate  there  was  76  per  cent.  There 
was  no  such  squalor,and  misery, and  no  such  death-rate  among 
the  slaves  of  the  Southern  States,  in  any  part  of  this  region 
at  least.     He  asked  himself,  "for  what  are  we  fighting?    Is 


84  ETOWAH. 

it  to  give  these  slaves  that  kind  of  freedom  ?"  And  then  he 
thought  of  the  remarkable  fact  that  not  more  than  two  per 
cent,  of  the  population  of  the  Southern  States  were  foreign- 
born,  while  in  one  ward  in  his  native  place,  New  York  city, 
there  were  64,000  Germans  born  in  Germany.  The  Latane 
and  Leslie  families  had  lived  in  these  Southern  States  one 
hundred  and  seventy  years ;  and  the  history  of  America  from 
its  earliest  discovery  hardly  goes  back  five  centuries,  or 
about  one  hundred  years  before  the  first  colonization  by 
Europeans. 

"  Who,  then,  were  the  true  patriots  in  this  ^struggle  be- 
tween the  States  ?"  he  asked  himself,  as  he  approachedlthe 
garden  where  old  Zeke  was  at  work. 


CHAPTER  X. 

OLD    ZEKE. 

The  old  Federal  road  ran  along  the  west  side  of  the  prem- 
ises at  Intervale,  and  near  it  was  the  garden  and  the  house 
of  the  gardener,  old  Zeke.  Like  most  of  his  race,  Zeke  talked 
to  himself  while  alone  at  work,  or  sang  lowly  portions  of 
hymns  peculiar  to  African  hymnology. 

He  frequently  talked  to  the  fowls,  which  crowded  around 
him,  eager  to  get  anything  which  he  might  bestow  upon 
them. 

On  the  day  selected  by  Barnum  for  his  adventure,  the  old 
man  had  admitted  some  pet  hens  into  the  garden,  ''  to  help 
me  rake  it,  chickens,"  he  affirmed.  He  would  dig  a  few 
spadesful  of  earth,  carefully  turning  it  over  each  time,  the 
poultry  watching  him  as  if  deeply  interested  in  his  investi- 
gations. 

''  Whar  all  de  wurms  gone  to,  chickens  ?"  he  asked.  Then 
he  dug  again,  and  threw  toward  them  the  worms. 

''  You's  all  de  same  age — you  is — and  you  kin  jist  fight 
over  dem  wurms ;  fust  come,  fust  sarved  is  de  rule."  After 
a  while  a  cock,  which  had  been  trying  to  get  into  the  gar- 
den, succeeded  in  flying  over  the  fence  and  dispersing  the 
hens,  as  he  rapidly  executed  that  political  maxim,  "  to  the 
victor  belong  the  spoils,"  pursuing  finally  a  hen  that  had 
not  succeeded  in  swallowing  her  prize.  Old  Zeke  raised  his 
head,  keeping  his  foot  on  the  spade  meanwhile,  and  looking 
around  said,  "  What  dat  racket  'bout  ?"     Then  he  spied  the 


86  ETOWAH. 

cock.  "  Whar  did  you  cum  fram,  rooster  ?  Git  out  o'  here, 
you  blasted  nigger,  you  !"  and  then  the  old  man  chased  the 
contumacious  rooster;  now  throwing  clods  of  earth,  now  a 
hoe,  then  a  stone,  always  missing  the  object  of  his  wrath, 
until  his  breath  was  exhausted.  "  I'll  fix  you  yit,  you  triflin' 
varmint !"  said  the  old  negro,  shaking  his  head  and  fist  at 
the  cock,  which  had  taken  refuge  in  the  raspberry  bushes 
first,  and  then  had  made  its  exit.  There  were  the  straw- 
berry beds  and  asparagus  beds,  mashed  down  by  the  old  fel- 
low in  his  angry  chase,  and  there  the  grape-vines  torn  down, 
fully  a  week's  labor,  caused  by  the  irx^-uption  of  this  piratical 
rooster.  As  the  old  man  survej^ed  the  scene  of  confusion  in 
this  sacred  precinct,  which  he  ruled  like  a  despot,  quarreling 
even  with  his  master  if  he  ordered  any  changes  to  be  made 
or  new  plants  introduced  without  first  consulting  him,  he 
got  more  and  more  indignant. 

The  chickens  crowded  around  him  again,  and  old  Zeke 
thus  endeavored  to  console  them :  "  Never  mind,  chickens, 
dat  rooster  '11  never  bodder  vou  no  more  ;  I  'clare  'fore  God  he 
won't!"  The  chickens  seemed  delighted.  Then  going  to 
the  fence,  he  leaned  on  it  and  cried :  "Hezekiah  !  Oh,  Hez  ! 
Oh,  Hez  !  you  Hezekiah  !  Come  here,  nigger  !  "  Then  he 
muttered  to  himself:  "Drat  dat  chile;  'pear's  if  he  ain't 
got  no  more  p'liteness  dan — dan  a  rooster." 

"  Hello!  "  said  a  voice  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence.  As 
old  Zeke  looked  around  he  saw  the  tall  form  of  a  travel- 
stained  man,  evidently  a  "  tramp,"  dressed  in  a  dilapidated 
suit  of  jeans.  The  man  held  a  carpet-bag  in  his  hand  and  a 
roll  of  blanket  under  one  arm. 

"  Hello!  "  repeated  the  stranger. 

''  Hello,  yourself !  "  ejaculated  old  Zeke. 


ETOWAH.  87 

"  rm  tollerable  ;  bow's  your  family  ?" 

"  Four  wives  buried,  and  a  huntin'  of  a  young  gal  now 
what  wants  ter  marry — sixteen  chillun,  ten  of  'em  gals,  or 
women  ruther,  and  fifty- two  grand-chillun ;  all  well,  thank 
ye.     How  mout  be  yourn,  stranger?" 

The  stranger  laughed.  "  You  seem  pretty  well  satisfied, 
old  man,"  said  he. 

"  Seemin's  lying,  den;  dat's  what  'tis,"  said  Zeke. 

'Then  you  are  not  satisfied?"  queried,  the  man. 

*'  In  course  I  ain't.  Ain't  I  wukked  to  death?  And  den 
dese  here  tarnal  roosters  and  chillun  what  won't  heer  noth- 
in'  and  won't  mind  nothin'  what  dey  do  beer's  nufi"  to  drive 
me  'stracted  !  Sartinly,  I  ain't  satisfied.  Ain't  I  done  raised 
two  craps  o'  chillun  fur  marster  ?  And  here  I  is,  wukkin 
yit!" 

'■  That  does  seem  pretty  hard.     Who  lives  here,  old  man  ?" 

"  Why,  marster  lives  here,"  replied  old  Zeke,  "  and  me 
and  a  heap  o'  niggers." 

"  Who  is  your  marster,  my  friend?"  (Particular  stress 
laid  on  the  last  two  words). 

"  Look-a-here,  stranger,  whar  did  you  come  from,  anyhow? 
Is  you  from  K'liny?"  (Carolina).  Evidently  old  Zeke  con- 
sidered it  a  phenomenon  for  a  man  not  to  know  who  Col- 
onel Leslie  was.  Before  the  man  could  reply  old  Zeke  caught 
sight  of  a  boy.  Now  a  boy  is  generally  suggestive  of  broken 
china  or  other  evidences  of  destructive  powers,  and  the  boy 
whom  old  Zeke  saw   was  not  an  exception. 

''  You,  Hez,  come  here  to  me,  sir,  you  good  for  nothin' 
brat !" 

The  boy  came  on,  making  faces  at  the  stranger  mean- 
while, and  Zeke  resumed  his  conversation  with  that  indi- 


88  ETOWAH. 

vidual.     Said  he  :     "  Folks  ain't  what  dey  use  was,  no  how. 
Dat  dere  boy's  nuff  to  drive  me  'stracted." 

"What  has  he  been  doing?"  asked  the  man. 

Old  Zeke  paused  and  scratched  his  head  to  answer  this 
unexpected  question.  The  boy  had  arrived,  however,  and 
relieved  his  embarrassment.  Said  he  :  "  Hez,  why  didn't 
you  come  when  I  fust  called  you?  Why  don't. you  mind  me, 
boy?" 

"I  didn't  hear  you,"  replied  the  boy,  grinning  with  mis- 
chief as  he  caught  the  stranger's  eye. 

"Why  didn't  you  hear  me?  What's  yer  eers  made  fur?" 
asked  the  old  patriarch. 

"  I  was  hidin'  de  pig,"  said  the  boy,  showing  his  ivories- 
As  the  boy  said  this  he  dodged,  and  as  he  dodged  the  old 
man  threw  a  "  chunk  o'  wood,"  as  he  called  it,  at  the  urchin. 
''I'll  chunk  yer  life  out'en  you,  boy!  G'long  wid  you,  nig- 
ger, and  ketch  dat  rooster.  Ef  I  ketch  him  in  here  agin, 
I'm  gwine  to  take  de  hide  offe'n  you!"  Hezekiah  grinned, 
cracked  his  heels  together,  turned  a  somersault,  and  ran 
back  to  the  cabin.  He  had  betrayed  a  weakness  of  the  old 
man's,  viz.,  stealing  a  fat  pig  occasionally.  In  old  Zeke's 
case  such  thefts  were  intentionally  not  discovered. 

"  'Pears  to  be  a  smart  boy,"  said  the  stranger. 

''  Yes,  he's  right  peart,  Hez,  is ;  but  de  wust  chile  in  de 
world!"  said  the  old  man,  looking  fondly  at  his  favorite 
grandchild,  who  was  clapping  his  hands  to  his  legs,  imitat- 
ing the  sound  of  a  horse  running,  as  he  ran  back  to  the  cabin. 

"You  say  your  marster  is  unjust  to  you — why  don't  you 
get  your  marster  to  sell  you  ?  " 

"I've  axed  him  to  many  'en  many  a  time  ;  he  won't  do  it ; 
he  can't  spare  old  Zeke.  Marster  wouldn't  take  two  thou- 
sand dollars  fur  me.'' 


ETOWAH.  89 

"Are  you  more  valuable  than  the  other  old  men  ?  " 
''Sartinly  I  is ;  makin'  truck  (i.  e.  gardening)  is  one  thing, 
an'  plowin'  an'  hoein's  another.  Who  gwine  to  wukk  dis  ere 
gyardin  if  Zeke  ain't  here  ?     Now  tell  me  dat  ?  " 
"Don't  the  other  old  men  work  as  hard  as  you  do?" 
"Stranger,  whar  did  you   come  frum?   Sartinly    not.     I 
works  harder'n  any  on  'em.     Dere's  Pompey  ;  he's  two  years 
older'n  me.     He  don't  do  nothin'  but  shoot  crows  for  mars- 
ter,  an'  ducks  and  squirrels  fur   hisself.     Dere's  Club-foot 
Harry  ;  he  makes  baskits  in  de  fall  fur  to  pick  cotton  in,  an' 
he  suns  hisself  de  balance  of  de  year.     Dere's  Gary  ;  he  don't 
do  nothin'  but  make  horse-collars  and  drive  de  horse  kyart 
(cart).     Dere's  Gumbo;  he  feeds  de  mules   an'  tends  stock. 
And  dere's  Big  Dick,  an'  ole  Mose,  an'    Little  Mose,  an'  Yal- 
ler  Bill,  an'  Step,  an'  Jake,  an'  Long  Tom,  an'  a  heap  more 
on  'em  what  don't  do  nothin'  't  all,  year  in  and  year  out." 
"Who  feeds  and  clothes  them  ?  " 
"Marster.     I  say,  mister,  got  a  chaw  terbacker  ?  " 
The  stranger,   like   all  poor  people,  did  manage  to  save 
enough  to  provide  this  luxury,  and  he  gave  old  Zeke  a  quid, 
or,  in  his  parlance,  a  "chaw." 

"And  yet  he  forces  you  to  work  ?  "  suggested  the  tramp. 
"Look-a-here,  mister,  to  tell  you  de  God's  trufe,  marster 
don't  do  no  sich  thing.  He  jest  says,  says  he,  'Zeke ;'  says 
I,  'Sir! '  Says  he,  'Zeke,  you  go  down  to  Oswichee  and  live 
there,  and  I'll  try  to  get  some  one  else  to  take  your  place 
here;  but  I  know  I  will  never  be  able  to  find  anybody  what 
knows  as  much  about  gyardenin'  as  you  does.'  "  Says  I, 
'Marster,  you  an'  me  is  a  most  wore  out,  we  is ;  an'  dis  ere 
gyarden  done  b'long  to  me  so  long  I  hates  to  leave  it.'  " 


90  ETOWAH. 

"If  he  would  give  you  your  freedom,  my  friend,  would 
you  leave  it  ?  " 

Old  Zeke  slowly  approached  the  man,  looked  at  him  closely 
and  said:  "Look  a-here,  mister,  who  is  you,  anyhow?  I 
done  found  out  already  dat  you  ain't  none  o'  our  kind  o' 
folks.     Whar  did  you  come  frum  ?" 

The  man  put  his  fingers  to  his  lips  in  token  of  silence, 
bowed,  and  pointed  to  Zeke's  cabin. 

"All  right !  "  said  Zeke  in  a  confidential  tone,  "you  go  to 
de  cabin. " 

Then  he  sang  in  a  loud  voice  a  revival  hymn,  working 
industriously  meanwhile,  until  finally  he  gathered  up  his 
tools,  put  them  on  his  shoulder,  assumed  an  expression  of 
extra  innocence,  and  continued  his  song  until  he  reached 
the  cabin. 

Arrived  at  the  cabin,  after  putting  his  tools  in  a  corner, 
the  old  negro  went  to  the  door  and  looked  out  cautiously  to 
see  if  any  one  was  visible  ;  then  re-entered  the  cabin,  and 
with  a  chuckle  of  satisfaction,  slapped  the  tramp  familiarly 
on  the  back,  and  extended  his  right  hand.  "Glad  to  see 
you  sir,  I  is.  What's  de  news  frum  Mr.  Washburn?"  Be- 
fore the  stranger  could  reply  old  Zeke  had  deposited  him- 
self in  a  chair  which  Hezekiah  had  placed  therefor  him, 
and  almost  immediately  he  jumped  up  again,  with  the  angry 
expression:  "What!  whar  dat  chile?"  rubbing  himself 
meanwhile  as  if  in  pain.  "He's  the  aggravatenist  chile  on- 
h  ung ! " 

The  myster}'  was  soon  explained.  The  boy  had  placed  a 
red  hot  piece  of  iron  in  the  chair  just  as  the  old  man  sat 
down  ;  and  as  soon  as  he   saw   how  the  charm  worked,  had 


ETOWAH.  91 

taken  himself  off,  with  the  peculiar  delight  which  boys  feel 
in  having  done  a  mischievous  thing. 

The  tramp  could  not  conceal  his  amusement.  But  a 
matter  of  too  great  importance  was  before  old  Zeke  now  to 
pay  any  more  attention  to  Hezekiah. 

"Well,  old  man,  I  think  you'll  have  to  get  your  master  to 
sell  that  boy, ''  said  the  stranger. 

"Dar  'tis  agin  !  Marster  w^on't  sell  no  nigger  onless  he 
wants  to  be  sold,  and  Hez.  don't.  He  wants  to  stay  here  to 
pester  me."  The  truth  was  the  old  man  had  begged  his 
"marster"  to  let  him  have  the  boy  to  "wait  on  him,"  as  he 
expressed  it ;  and  he  would  have  sooner  parted  with  his 
hand  than  with  Hezekiah,  who  made  life  spicy  for  him. 

''You  do  seem  to  have  your  troubles.  What's  your 
name  ?  " 

"Zeke." 

"Mr.  Zeke,"  continued  the  man,  "don't  you  want  to  be 
free  ?" 

"  'Deed  I  does,"  said  Zeke,  and  inspired  by  that  suggestive 
prefix,  "  mister,"  the  old  man  continued  :  "  I  tell  you  what, 
I  wish  I  was  free  !" 

"That's  my  business  in  these  parts,  Mr.  Zeke.  I  wisti  to 
set  you  all  free,"  replied  the  stranger. 

"Hi!  how  you  gwine  ter  do  it?" 

"  Will  you  help  me,  Mr.  Zeke  ?" 

"  Will  I  help  you  to  help  mef     Sartainly  I  will." 

"  Well,  you  tell  all  the  old  men  like  yourself  to  meet  me 
at  Ringgold  with  their  children  and  their  children's  chil- 
dren, and  I  will  lead  them  to  Ohio,  and  you'll  all  be  free; 
that's  what  this  war  is  for." 

Golly?"  said  Zeke,  smiling  at  the  prospect.     "  Will  dey 


u 


92  ETOWAH. 

srive  us  all  houses  to  live  in,  an'  carriages  an'  bosses,  an'  nig- 
gers— no,  we  don't  want  no  niggers.  What  do  dey  do  fur 
niggers  up  dar?" 

"  No,  we  will  not  give  you  houses,  nor  horses,  nor  servants, 
but  we  will  give  you  freedom,  my  friend." 

"  What  good  freedom  gwine  to  do  us  widout  de  means  of 
'joyin'  it?"  queried  Zeke. 

"  You  must  work  and  make  a  living,"  said  the  man. 

"  Hi !  ain't  dat  what  we  does  here  ?  'ceptin'  'tis  de  ole 
men  and  women  an'  de  blind  an'  'flicted  folks — dey  don't 
do  no  wukk  here.     Will  dey  have  to  wukk  dar  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  friend,  all  able-bodied  men  must  work  there. 
We  will  try  to  provide  for  each  head  of  a  family  forty  acres 
and  a  mule,  for  which  he  can  pay  when  he  makes  money 
enough." 

"  Look-a-here,  Mister-what's-yer-name  ?  we  don't  want 
no  mule  to  work  wid.  I  want  a  bob-tail  white  boss,  like 
marster's,  an'  I  don't  want  to  do  nuthin'  but  ride  him  'bout, 
and  give  orders  to  niggers,  like  marster  does.  Marster's 
free ;  he  don't  wukk.  Bill  Baxter  is  a  free  nigger  and  he 
owns  his  own  land  and  he  ain't  no  better  off  'an  we  is, 
'ceptin'  'tis  he  goes  and  comes  whar   and  when  he  pleases.'^ 

"  Would'nt  you  like  to  be  able  to  do  that  too,  Mr.  Zeke?'^ 

''  Sartainly,  I  would  ;  pervidin,  mind  you,  Marster  would  let 
me  come  home  when  I  got  tired  cavortin'  'round,  and  would 
take  keer  of  me  when  I  git  so  I  can't  take  keer  uv  myself." 

"  Then  you  won't  take  any  risk  to  secure  your  freedom?" 

"  Sartainly  I  won't !  I  don't  want  no  freedom  whar  I  got 
to  wukk  at  my  time  uv  life,"  said  Zeke. 

"  But  the  young  men  will  be  glad  to  make  the  efifort,  will 
they  not?"  asked  the  tramp. 


ETOWAH.  93 

"  I  'speck  dey  will  ;  de  very  last  one  on  'em  !  All  young 
folks  is  fools,  white  and  black,  'ceptin  tis  Miss  Clara,  bless 
de  honey's  soul !" 

"Who  is  Miss  Clara?"  said  the  man  with  increasing  in- 
terest and  a  change  in  his  tone. 

"  What  yer  want  ter  know  dat  fur?  She  is  too  high  qual- 
ity fur  you  ter  know,  but  she'd  meet  you  like  she  meets 
everybody,  white  an'  black,  so  kind-like  dat  dey  all  loves 
de  chile ;  why,  Miss  Clara's  my  young  Missus,"  said  Zeke. 

"  Is  she  pretty  ? 

"  De  angels  in  heben  can't  beat  her!"  exclaimed  the  old 
man. 

"  What  do  you  think  about  this  war,  Mr.  Zeke?" 

"1  think  dey  kilt  Mars  Hugh,  an'  mighty  nigh  kilt  dat 
tother  young  man  who  dey  do  say — leastawise  Mariar  do  say 
it — is  a  Yankee  soldier  hisself,  but  I  don't  b'lieve  it." 

"  Why  don't  you  believe  it?"  said  the  tramp. 

"'Cause  he  acts  like  de  quality-folks,  like  a  gentleman — 
an  I  don't  b'lieve  no  white-folks  kin  be  quality  onless  dey 
owns  niggers." 

"Does  he  own  negroes?" 

"Dat's  why  Mariar  say  he  is  a  Yankee.  But  I  will  tell 
you  what,  Mister-what's-yer-name,"  said  Zeke  growing  con- 
fidential again,  as  if  he  was  about  to  impart  some  very  im- 
portant information,  "  he's  gwine  to  own  lots  on  'em  some 
day." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  said  the  stranger,  leaning  for> 
ward. 

"  I  mean  he's  a  courtin'  of  Miss  Clara,  dat's  what  I  mean , 
and  she  has  nussed  him,  and  rid  wid  him  nigh  on  to  three 
months.     Now,  mister,  hit  stands  to  reasin  dat  when  a  gal 


94  ETOWAH. 

does  dat,  she's  gwine  to  fall  in  love  afore  she  knows  it.  Lord 
sakes  alive !  won't  Mars  Harry  be  mad  den?"  said  old  Zeke^ 
laughing  to  himself. 

''  Who  on  earth  is  this  '  Mars  Harry?'  "  said  the  man. 

"  Mars  Harry  Latane,  who  owns,  or  is  gwine  to  own,  de 
place  jinin'  ourn  down  to  Etowah,  on  de  river.  He's  a 
quality-gentleman  fur  you  !  an  ef  he  knowed  what  was  gwine 
on  here,  he'd  leff  his  company,  an  de  war,  and  he'd  take  dat 
ar  Mr.  Barnum  an  lift  him  out'en  his  boots  afore  he  could 
say  Jack  Robinson  !"  and  the  old  man  laughed  immoderately 
at  the  imaginary  picture. 

The  tramp's  hat  had  fallen  off  now,  also  his  wig,  and  his 
features  were  disguised  only  by  the  whiskers,  though  he  did 
not  seem  to  know  it.  "I  clar  to  gracious  !"  cried  old  Zeke, 
looking  intently  at  the  man.  "Great  snakes  alive  !  ef  you 
ain't  him  !"  And  then  old  Zeke  informed  him  that  he  in- 
tended to  tell  his  master  on  him,  *'  Onless,"  he  added  con- 
fidentially, "  you  kin  prove  to  me  Mr.  Washburn  sent  you 
here." 

Barnum's  intense  interest  had  betrayed  him,  but  assum- 
ing a  careless  mannerand  re-adjusting  his  wig  and  whiskers, 
he  took  up  his  bundle  and  departed,  first  telling  old  Zeke 
that  he  would  notify  Mr.  Washburn,  if  he  reported  him, 
and  asserting  that  he  did  not  intend  to  bs  picked  up  for  an- 
other man.  Old  Zeke  remained  in  deep  thought  for  a  few 
moments.  He  was  not  positive  about  this  being  Barnum, 
and  in  spite  of  all  his  statements  there  was  not  a  negro  on 
the  estate,  old  or  young,  who  would  not  gladly  have  accepted 
freedom.  Then  he  concluded  he  would  tell  his  "  marster  " 
any  way  that  Barnum  would  not  do  as  a  suitor  for  Clara's 
hand. 


ETOWAH.  95 

Colonel  Leslie  intercepted  old  Zeke  as  he  was  on  his  way 
to  the  house,  and  began  to  make  complaints  against  Heze- 
kiah. 

''  I  tell  you  what,  Zeke,"  said  he,  "  I've  spared  that  little 
darkey  long  enough,  and  the  next  time  he  strikes  my 
pointer,  I  intend  to  thrash  him.  I  don't  believe  you  ever 
do  whip  him." 

"  Marster,  in  course  you  kin  whip  Hez — in  course  you  kin 
whip  me,  whenever  you  wants  to,  in  course  you  kin  !  But 
did  you  see  Hez  strike  de  dog?" 

''  No,  Zeke,  if  I  had,  I  should  have  whipped  him  anyhow, 
but  somebody  has  struck  Dan." 

"  Dar  'tis!"  said  Zeke,  "dar  'tis!  now  marster,  you  is  de 
court,  and  you  is  de  jedge,  and  you  is  de  jury :  which  one 
am  you,  when  you  make  up  your  mind  to  whip  Hez,  jest  be- 
cause Mariar's  chile  has  hit  de  pineter?" 

"  Zeke,  I  do  believe  you  have  got  a  way  of  looking  right 
into  me.  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  whip  Hez  this  time, 
and  have  come  here  for  that  purpose,  but  you  have  put  a 
question  to  me,  which  I  can't  answer.  Now,  did  you  see 
Maria's  boy  hit  my  dog  ?" 

"  I  seed  him  hit  your  dog  jest  as  much  as  you  seed  Hez 
hit  de  pineter,"  replied  the  old  man.  ''  I  tell  you  what, 
marster,  jest  bekase  Hez  is  a  peart,  lively  critter,  dese  nig- 
gers charges  all  dere  rascalities  up  to  him,  but  bless  your 
heart,  marster,  dat  Hez's  de  innocentest  boy  I  ever  seed  !" 

Detaining  the  old  man  long  enough  to  admit  of  Barnum's 
return  to  the  house.  Colonel  Leslie  slowly  entered  it,  but 
was  called  back  by  Zeke. 

Barnum  had  returned  and  had  taken  ofif  the  old  clothing 
which  he  had  worn  over  his  best  suit,  and  was  now  describ- 


96  ETOWAH. 

ing  his  interview  to  the  young  ladies  in  the  parlor,  omitting, 
however,  any  reference  to  Clara,  or  the  cause  of  Zeke's  sus- 
picion. 

Then  they  heard  old  Zeke's  voice  addressing  Colonel  Les- 
lie, who  was  sitting  in  the  veranda. 

''  I  say,  marster,"  said  Zeke. 

"  What  now,  Zeke  ?" 

"  Marster,  you  has  been  imposed  on,"  solemnly  said  old 
Fidelity. 

'^  By  whom,  Zeke?" 

''  By  a  man  you  can't  put  no  'pendence  on — a  piece  of 
white-trash,  sir." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Zeke — who  has  given  you  a  dram?" 

•'  I  ain't  had  no  dram,  marster,  senoe  de  war  commenced  ; 
you's  got  so  stingy  you  ought  to  be  shamed  o'  yourself!  I 
done  forgot  de  very  taste  uv  whisky.  But,  marster,  spite 
o'  your  stinginess,  I'll  tell  you  how  you's  been  'posed  on. 
You  has  done  like  de  man  what  de  Bible  tells  'bout;  one 
cold,  frosty  mornin'  he  found  a  snake  in  de  big  road,  what 
was  froze  stifif.  He  tuk  de  snake  home  wid  him,  an  warmed 
hit  by  de  fire,  an  hit  bit  him  an  pizened  him  !"  said  the  old 
negro  with  the  solemnity  of  a  judge. 

"  Well,  nobody  has  poisoned  me,"  said  his  master. 

"  Dey  has  tried  to,  sir,  but  old  Zeke — " 

"  Who  has  tried  to  poison  me?"  interrupted  Colonel  Les- 
lie, not  wishing  to  hear  Zeke's  history  of  his  faithful  services 
which  he  had  heard  already  a  hundred  time^. 

'•  Dat  dere  young  man  wat  come  here  wid  you  atter  Mars 
Hugh  died,  and  what  Miss  Clara  an'  you  has  warmed  to  life 
agin  !"  said  the  old  darkey. 


ETOWAH.  97 

"Who?  Barnum  ?  Why,  Zeke,  you  are  drunk.  Barnum 
was  Hugh's  best  friend." 

'•  He  ain't  no  friend  o*  yourn,  marster;  and  he  ain't  quality, 
marster;  an  he  ain't  fitten  to  cut  Mars  Harry  Latan6  out, 
marster !" 

Then  old  Zeke  related  all  that  had  transpired,  but  Barnum 
had  his  reasons  for  wishing  to  put  a  stop  to  his  narrative  be- 
fore the  old  negro  reached  that  part  of  the  recital  which  re- 
lated to  his  interest  in  Clara.  He  therefore  walked  out  on 
the  veranda  from  the  parlor  window  and  talked  laughingly 
to  Clara  Leslie  and  her  friends,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  a  word 
he  had  said. 

"  I  'clar  to  God !"  said  Zeke,  staring  with  wonder  at  the 
unexpected  appearance  of  the  young  gentleman  dressed  in 
his  elegant  suit  of  black,  his  easy  manners,  and  the  laugh- 
ing eye  which  accompanied  the  following  request,  addressed 
to  old  Zeke : 

"Proceed  with  your  story,  uncle  Zeke;  it  is  interesting  to 
hear  one's  self  denounced.  But,  really,  I  can't  understand 
why  you  should  dislike  me  so  much  as  to  invent  that  story." 
He  only  said :  "  1  'clar  to  God,  marster  !  'fore  God,  I  don't 
b'lieve  'twas  him  no  how  !"  and  retired  completely  mystified. 
He  walked  slowly  back  to  nis  cabin  in  deep  thought,  then 
went  to  the  road  and  endeavored  to  track  the  tramp,  but 
he  finally  gave  it  up,  completely  "  out-done,"  as  he  expressed 
it.  His  boasts  had  already  subjected  him  to  ridicule  so 
often  that  he  concluded  to  k(  ep  his  own  counsel  henceforth 
concerning  the  mysterious  stranger.  But  he  humbly  begged 
Barnum's  pardon  the  next  time  he  saw  him  for  having  mis- 
taken him  for  a  tramp. 

Barnum  informed  him  that  his  fidelity  to  his  master  had 

raised  him  very  much  in  his  estimation. 

7 


CHAPTER  XL 

MR.  WELLINGTON    NAPOLEON    POTTS. 

"Forgery  is  the  false  making  or  materially  altering,  with 
intent  to  defraud,  of  any  writing  which,  if  genuine,  might 
apparently  be  of  legal  efficacy  in  the  foundation  of  a  legal 
liability." 

Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  reflected  for  sometime,  after 
reading  the  above  definition,  before  putting  his  pen  to  the 
paper  before  him.  Was  the  letter  he  was  about  to  write  of 
^^  legal  efficacy  in  the  foundation  of  a  legal  liability  f  ^^ 

He  consulted  the  authorities  at  hand,  and  in  one  he  read 
underneath  the  same  caption  the  following:  "For  it  is  not 
every  falsification  of  writing  which  constitutes  forgery  in  a 
legal  sense.  If  one  writes  letters  and  signs  them  with  the  name  of 
another^  ivhich  may  be  very  injurious^  not  only  to  the  feelings  of 
some  other  party  ^  but  to  his  interests,  he  is  not  in  law  a  forger,  if  no 
pecuniary  rights,  obligations  or  engagements  are,  or  are  intended  to 
be,  directly  affected  by  this  falsehood.''^ 

That  was  satisfactory  to  this  pious  young  man,  whose 
Sunday-school  class  was  a  model  in  its  way.  He  was  a 
shrewd  judge  of  human  nature,  and  he  had  observed  that 
the  ethics  of  the  legal  profession  seemed  to  mean  that  any 
outrage  or  wrong- doing,  if  "  legally  "  committed,  is  legitimate 
and  pardoned.  He  had  observed  that  the  criminal  is  prose- 
cuted by  one  attorney  only,  while  a  score  of  the  ablest  legal 
minds  are  ever  ready  to  defend  him  for  a  pecuniary  consid- 
eration. His  observations  in  this  direction  developed  the 
fact  that  in  the  previous  year  the  number  of  reported  murders 


ETOWAH.  99 

in  the  United  States  was  1,266,  and  there  were  only  93  per- 
sons executed  according  to  law,  while  118  were  lynched.  In 
other  words,  only  one  in  every  fifteen  murderers  are  legally 
executed  in  the  United  States.  In  cases  where  forgery  is 
the  crime  the  proportion  of  escapes  is  still  greater ;  and  in 
civil  cases  generally  the  practice  of  law  seemed  to  him  to 
resolve  itself  simply  into  a  war  on  property,  and  the  shrewd- 
est and  most  respected  lawyer  to  be  the  man  who  could  de- 
vise ways  and  means  to  defeat  manifest  justice  in  the  inter- 
ests of  the  guild.  "For  who  ever  heard,"  he  asked  himself, 
"  of  one  lawyer's  prosecuting  another  ?  and  how  rare  is  it  that 
a  rascally  lawyer  is  disbarred !"  He  had  heard  them  brow- 
beating and  insulting  each  other  in  the  grossest  manner  in 
the  court-room,  and  had  seen  the  judge  overlook  the  glaring 
contempt  of  court  and  dismiss  them  with  a  nominal  fine  and 
an  apologetic  lecture.  The  prisoner  at  the  bar  would  have 
been  consigned  to  a  cell  in  the  common  felon's  jail  for  speak- 
ing in  the  same  manner  in  answer  to  the  opprobrious  epithets 
heaped  upon  his  defenceless  head  by  the  dynamite  lawyer. 
Mr.  Potts  had  observed  how  these  employees  assume  the 
manner  of  masters  when  addressing  their  clients ;  and  he 
laughed  as  he  noted  that  prominent  "pillars  of  the  church" 
had  ruthlessly  robbed  the  widow  and  the  orphan  under  the 
guise  of  "  professional  duty." 

"  Anything  that  is  legal  is  right;"  "might  makes  right," 
he  was  heard  to  remark  ,•"  and  his  secret  aspiration  was  to 
become  a  legal  "counsellor"  in  this  lawyer-cursed  land, 
where  legal  fees  are  out  of  all  just  proportion  to  the  value 
of  the  services  rendered.  So  alluring  did  the  practice 
of  law  seem  to  him,  that  he  would  have  at  once  become  a 
lawyer  but  for  the  existence  of  war,  which  prompted  him  to 


100  ETOWAH. 

retain  a  bomb-proof  place  which  he  had  secured  in  the  post- 
office  at  Etowah. 

Had  he  become  a  lawyer,  he  would  have  probably  been  a 
prominent  legal  Pharisee  on  the  principle  announced  by  him 
to  be  the  basis  of  professional  ethics,  when  he  was  ventilat- 
ing his  opinions  to  his  chosen  associate  and  satellite,  Jona- 
than Stunner,  Esquire. 

*'  Stunner,"  said  Potts;  "  there  is  no  doubt  that  most  great 
criminals  have  in  them  the  chief  elements  which  go  to  make 
successful  lawyers." 

It  was  a  fine  piece  of  acting  when  his  obsequious  friend 
held  up  his  hands  with  an  air  of  pious  horror,  and  earnestly 
protested,  in  a  tone  which  resembled  a  Methodist  class- 
leader's,  against  this  aspersion  of  what  he  called  "a  noble 
profession." 

In  becoming  the  "silent  partner"  of  Jonathan  Stunner  in 
his  money-lending  and  rack^-renting  schemes,  in  the  distant 
capital  city  where  Potts  was  not  known,  Wellington  Napoleon 
Potts  had  adopted  the  next  best  method  of  utilizing  the 
terrors  and  tyrannies  of  the  law  as  practiced  in  this  country 
where  the  attornev  and  the  advocate,  the  solicitor  and  bar- 
rister  are,  unfortunately,  united  in  one  individual,  and 
where  a  dry-goods  clerk  may  become  a  lawyer  by  six  months 
study. 

The  prominent  sign  of  John  Bull  Stunner  announced  to  the 
public  in  large  letters  that  he  was  "Attorney  and  Counsellor 
and  Real  Estate  Agent,"  while  underneath,  in  small  capitals, 
one  read  the  suggestive  words:  "Detective  Collecting  Agency." 
It  was  said  that  Mr.  Stunner's  "business  "  was  one  of  the  most 
lucrative  in  the  capital  city. 

Stunner  was  a  small,  wiry,   tough-looking  citizen,    who 
could  change  his  facial   muscles  at  will.     He  was  a  natural 


ETOWAH.  101 

actor,  and  the  st;ige  lost  an  ornament  when  he  decided  to 
take  the  legal  profession  as  the  best  road  by  which  he  could 
attain  ease  and  wealth.  He  esteemed,  as  next  to  the  Prov- 
erbs of  Solomon,  the  maxim  :  "Put  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief," 
and  he  rightly  considered  himself  the  right  man  in  the  right 
place. 

In  the  presence  of  a  modest  lady,  or  an  honest,  rural  citi- 
zen, ignorant  of  city  methods,  Stunner's  manner  was  tre- 
mendous, so  to  speak.  He  stood  so  straight  that  his  head 
lent  backward  and  his  round  stomach  forward,  when  he 
wished  to  awe  such  customers  by  the  majesty  of  his  pres- 
ence. He  received  such  people  in  his  handsomely  furnished 
front  office,  which  was  upholstered  and  furnished  like  a 
bank.  The  plate-glass  windows  abounded  in  signs,  and 
everywhere  one  saw  the  name  "Stunner." 

Three  female  clerks  were  kept  busy  all  the  time,  notwith- 
standing the  dullness  of  trade,  adding  up  figures  in  columns 
on  huge  ledgers,  and  making  out  bills.  A  hoary-headed  old 
book  keeper  seemed  equally  busy,  and  the  passers-by  won- 
dered how  business  could  be  so  active  with  him,  when  all 
other  lawyers,  note-shavers,  and  real  estate  agents  were 
grumbling  at  the  stagnation  in  business. 

To  borrowers  he  assumed  a  fierce  and  uncompromising 
expression,  and  as  they  stood  before  the  small  aperture  above 
the  counter  in  the  adjoining  room  over  which  was  the  sign, 
"Loan  Office,"  they  were  spoken  to  by  the  great  man  behind 
the  counter,  which  extended  nearly  to  the  ceiling,  in  a  man- 
ner which  suggested  that  they  were  on  trial  for  their  lives. 
From  his  perch  there  he  could  see  them  plainly, 
through  the  small  aperture  provided,  while  nothing 
except  his  glittering  black  eyes  were  visible  to  them. 
But   mention     a  trade    to    him !      Instantly  his    features 


102  ETOWAH. 

changed,  his  mind  seemed  to  bristle,  and  one  could  see  that 
he  was  as  eager  after  the  almighty  dollar  as  is  a  grey-hound 
when  chasing  a  rabbit.  All  other  thoughts  seemed  to  vanish, 
as  if  a  magician  had  moved  them  away  with  invisible  wand, 
and  he  seemed  then  to  adapt  himself  at  once  to  the  great 
Lavater's  ethical  precept,  ''Limit  yourself  at  every  moment, 
if  you  can,  to  what  is  nearest  you." 

The  entrance  of  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  into  this  oJSice 
was  the  signal  for  the  most  cordial  welcome,  and  half-veiled 
obsequiousness  was  prominent  in  the  bow  and  hand-grasp 
with  which  the  head  of  the  "Detective  Collection  Agency  " 
greeted  his  visitor. 

For  Potts  was  at  once  client,  customer,  patron  and  silent 
partner.  For  him  the  best  chair  was  ever  ready  on  his  brief 
visits  to  the  capital.  In  business  matters,  and  in  business 
matters  only.  Potts  did  not  let  his  right  hand  know  what  his 
left  hand  was  doing ;  and  even  his  father  did  not  know  that 
he  made  investments  through  the  "  Detective  Collection 
Agency  ,-Iveal-Estate,- Law,- Loan-Insurance-and-Notary-Pub- 
lic  Office  "  of  John  Bull  Stunner,  Esq. 

"  Why,  my  dear  sir,  my  very  dear  sir,  I  am  delighted  to  see 
you !  Parker,  here !  take  this  gentleman's  hat  and  cane. 
Take  good  care  of  them,  too,  Parker.  Mr.  Potts  and  I  have 
a  confidential  conference  before  us — and  remember,  Parker, 
I  am  'out  of  town  '  to  all  who  come,  so  long  as  Mr.  Welling- 
ton Potts  honors  the  office  with  his  presence." 

The  old  book-keeper  got  down  from  his  high  stool  quickly 
and  advanced  to  do  as  he  was  bidden,  but  Potts  retained  his 
cane,  kept  his  hat  on  his  head,  and  deliberately  walked  to 
where  one  of  the  female  clerks  stood  writing,  and  looked  over 
her  shoulder  at  the  ledger.  Then  turning  to  Stunner,  he  said  : 


ETOWAH.  103 

"Same  old  trick,  Stunner;  hasn't  the  public  found  it  out 

yet?" 

"  No,  and  it  never  will.  It  works  like  a  charm,  Itellyou.''^ 

The  truth  was  that  these  clerks  were  kept  busy  copying 
from  old  ledgers,  and  old  du3-bills  long  since  collected,  when- 
ever business  was  dull.  The  public  supposed  that  this  was 
all  new  business,  and  patronized  Stunner,  not  because  they 
liked  him,  for  he  was  generally  thought  to  be  a  "shyster"  in 
his  legal  practice,  and  disreputable  socially.  But  he  was  a 
good  collector,^and  business  came  to  him  because  he  seemed 
to  get  more  business  than  all  the  rest  of  the  notary-publics, 
small  attorneys  and  real-estate  agents  c  )mbined.  The  public 
likes  to  be  humbugged,  and  Stunner  dearly  loved  to  humbug 
the  public.  But  the  manner  and  re  marks  of  Potts  threatened 
to  lower  his  prestige  with  his  employees  and,  therefore,  he 
hurried  Potts  to  his  back- office,  as  he  styled  the  room  in 
the  rear  where  he  was  wont  to  arrange  legal  matters. 

The  methods  of  this  worthy,  inspired  by  the  unctious 
Wellington  Napoleon  Potts,  were  peculiar.  See  them  in  the 
dingy,  dark  back-room,  where  they  held  their  confidential 
conferences,  discussing  the  mode  of  collecting  bad  debts  upon 
scientific  and  artistic  principles.  A  smoking  lamp  casts  its 
flickering  glare  over  the  dust-covered  books  that  were  placed 
on  the  round  pine  table  to  impress  the  humble  debtor  that 
the  redoubtable  proprietor  of  the  "  detective  collecting 
agency "  was  a  profound  legal  student.  In  point  of  fact, 
they  were  rarely,  if  ever,  opened. 

The  conversation  drifted  to  the  events  which  now  made 
war  a  very  stern  reality  indeed. 

"How  did  you  manage  to  get  out  of  the  Union  army  ?" 
asked  Potts. 


104  ETOWAH. 

'*I  served  loyally  my  time;  I  only  enlisted  for  three 
months." 

"Were  you  in  the  battle  of  Manassas?" 

"No ;  I  found  it  convenient  to  have  a  violent  attack  of  the 
colic  that  day  and  was  in  the  hospital,  where  I  managed  to 
stay  until  the  fighting  was  over." 

"Were  you  not  suspected  of  being  an  imposter,  and  of 
shamming  sickness  ?" 

"Oh,  no ;  hear  me,"  and  with  that  began  a  series  of  the 
most  violent  contortions  accompanied  by  sounds  that  seemed 
to  emanate  from  a  person  suffering  from  the  most  excruciat- 
ing agony,  and  yet  that  could  not  be  heard  in  the  front  of- 
fice." 

Potts  was  convulsed  with  laughter,  but  finally  asked  : 
"Tell  me,  my  dear  friend,  what  induced  you  to  risk  that 
valuable  carcass  of  yours  by  enlisting  in  the  army  ?" 

Stunner  was  now  sitting  on  the  table,  his  legs  dangling 
down,  and  his  face  as  grave  as  that  of  a  judge. 

Advancing  slowly  to  Potts,  he  said  to  him,  putting  his 
fore-finger  on  the  side  of  his  nose — a  favorite  jesture  of  his — 
"Don't  you  give  it  away,  but  go  thou  and  do  likewise.  When 
this  war  ends  the  soldiers  are  going  to  be  pensioned  by  both 
governments,  if  the  Confederacy  wins,  but  by  the  United 
States  Government  anyway.  To  be  sure  to  get  a  monthly 
pension  all  my  days,  I  enlisted  on  the  strong  side,  and  now 
I  am  all  heeled." 

"But  why  do  the}^  not  bother  you  here!  How  do  you 
manage  to  keep  out  of  the  Confederate  army  ?  I  am  annoyed 
to  death,  and,  as  you  know,  have  been  almost  ostracised  be- 
cause I  will  not  go  to  the  front " 

Assuming  the  manner  of  a  judge  on  the  bench,  Stunner 


ETOWAH.  105 

placed  his  hand  in  the  breast  of  his  coat  and  took  from  the 
inner  pocket  a  package,  which  he  handed  to  Potts. 

"Read  that,  and  be  convinced  that  it  is  a  very  cold  day 
when  Stunner  gets  left,"  he  said. 

Potts  opened  it  and  read  the  certificate  of  the  Consul- 
General  of  Great  Britain,  that  John  Bull  Stunner  was  a 
loyal  subject  of  her  majesty,  the  Queen  of  Great  Britain  and 
Ireland.  Potts  returned  the  papers  with  a  look  of  undis- 
guised admiration. 

"I  envy  you  more  than  I  do  any  man,"  he  said.  "I  see 
the  point :  you  have  not  taken  out  naturalization  papers." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  did  in  the  United  States,  but  I  have  not  yet 
become  a  citizen  of  the  Confederate  States,  and — "  again  the 
dexter  fore-finger  went  to  the  dexter  side  of  the  nose,  as  he 
w^hispered :  "And  hetween  you  and  me,  and  the  bed-post,  I 
am  not  going  to  do  so,  so  long  as  there  is  any  fighting  going 
on." 

To  this  sentiment  Potts  responded  by  a  cordial  grasp  of 
the  hand,  thus  making  a  tacit  admission  that  Stunner  had 
uttered  the  whh  dearest  to  his  own  heart. 

"I  do  think,  of  all  the  fool  things  on  earth,"  said  he,  "this 
thing  they  call  'patriotism,'  which  demands  that  men  shall 
voluntarily  pose  as  targets  before  deadly  missiles  is  the  — est !" 
The  conversation  became  more  and  more  tree  and  easy,  for 
Stunner  helped  himself  to  what  he  lalled  "nerve  tonic." 

Hear  him  relating  his  latest  experiences  to  Potts  : 

"Whenever  I  get  a  bad  debt  upon  the  employee  of  a  cor- 
poration, I  politely  notify  him  that  the  paper  has  been 
placed  in  my  hands  for  collection,  and  courteously  invite  him 
to  drop  into  my  office,  as  his  previous  engagements  will 
allow,  and  settle  the  matter.  Of  course,  I  suggest  that  a  re- 
mittance by  mail  or  express,  at  the  risk  and  expense  of  the 


106  ETOWAH. 

sender,  would  answer  every  purpose.  Have  a  drink  Mr. 
R'tts,"  said  Stunner,  pushing  the  bottle  toward  his  guest 
and  co-partner. 

'No,  thanks;  I  don't  drink  anything  stronger  than  cider," 
replied  Potts. 

'Oh!  you  don't,  eh?  Well,  I  am  sorry  for  you;  here 
goes !"  and,  with  that  expressson  the  "detective-collector," 
ignoring  the  glass,  seized  the  bottle,  inverted  it,  and  drank 
half  a  pint  without  wincing. 

"My  goodness !  man,  you  will  burn  your  stomach  out  with 
that  raw  whisky — won't  you  take  some  water?"  said  Potts, 
handing  Stunner  the  water  pitcher  as  he  spoke. 

"Water  be  damned!"  replied  Stunner;  then,  wiping  his 
mouth  with  his  sleeve,  he  resumed : 

"Where  was  I  when  I  left  ofl  ?" 

"You  were  telling  of  how  you  sent  the  debtor  a  request  to 
call  and  settle,  or  send  remittance  by  mail  or  express." 

"A.thisown  risk  and  expense,  mind  j^ou ;  ha!  ha!  ha!" 
laushed  Stunner. 

"Well  then,  if  the  debtor  is  wise,"  he  resumed,  "he  hast- 
ens to  liquidate  his  little  bill,  and,  while  cursing  the  fate 
that  threw  him  into  my  hands,  he  blesses  the  unseen  gods 
that  have  brought  him  out  again,  even  at  the  cost  of  the  un- 
pardonable extravagance  of  paying  his  debt." 

No  one  who  knew  Mr.  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  in  his 
richly  furnished  office  at  Etowah  would  recognize  him  now 
as  he  asks  : 

"Does  he  always  tumble  to  the  racket?" 

Assuming  a  serious  manner,  Stunner  answered  :  "No,  I 
grieve  to  say  that  sometimes  he  is  not  wise,  or  rather  ignor- 
ance of  the  painful  experience  immediately  in  store  for  him 
makes  him  stubborn  and  rebellious ;  then  the  circus  begins, 


ETOWAH.  107 

and  all  the  acts  promised  in  the  large  posters,  and  quite  a 
number  of  the  performances  not  put  down  in  the  hand-bills, 
are  exhibited  to  the  music  of  a  large  and  expensive  brass 
band.  The  debtor,  of  course,  pays  all  the  expenses  of  the 
side  show,  and  of  the  band.'' 

Potts  was  laughing  with  the  keenest  enjoyment,  as  he  an- 
ticipated what  was  to  follow,  while  Stunner  retained  his 
serious  expression. 

''Then,"  suggested  Potts,  "you  tell  him  to  write  to  me,  do 
you  ?" 

"Oh,  no ;  the  first  act  is  to  go  to  a  Commercial  Notary  and 
make  the  necessary  affidavit  to  secure  a  summons  of  garnish- 
ment against — let  us  say — a  railroad  company  which  em- 
ploys our  debtor  as  a  locomotive  engineer.  The  affidavit  is 
made  from  a  printed  blank  which,  by  some  unaccountable 
oversight  on  the  part  of  the  compositor,  omits  to  contain  the 
very  necessary  allegation  tliat  the  funds  claimed  are  subject 
to  garnishment.  The  bond  to  answer  in  damages  for  suing 
out  a  false  garnishment,  has  also  the  same  fatal  and  curious 
omission.  The  security  on  that  valuable  instrument  is 
usually  some  of  the  negro  janitors  or  office-boys  of  my  ac- 
quaintance, and  the  depths  of  their  insolvency  could  not  be 
sounded  with  the  Atlantic  cable  for  a  lead-line." 

"Good !  capital !  you'll  do !"  exclaimed  the  happy  Potts. 
'Go  on,  John,  I  am  listening — ha!  ha!  ha!" 

Thus  encouraged,  Stunner  took  another  pull  at  the  bottle, 
and  proceeded : 

"The  Commercial  Notary,  being  usually  very  good-natured 
and  invariably  furnished  with  a  skull  thick  enough  to  pro- 
tect his  valuable  brains  from  anything  short  of  a  cannon-ball 
or  a  mule's  heel,  likewise  issues  the  summons  of  garnish- 
ment, which  I  then  place  in  the  hands  of  a  country  consta- 


108  ETOWAH. 

ble,  who  serves  it  in  due  form  and  with  imposing  dignity 
upon  the  railway  compan}^  The  engineer  smiles  scornfully 
when  he  hears  of  the  garnishment;  he  has  'been  there'  be^ 
fore,  and  he  immediately  goes  to  some  Folvent  friend  and 
gets  him  to  go  on  a  bond  to  dissolve  the  garnishment  and 
release  his  very  in  porta  nt  and  sorely-needed  wages.  Armed 
with  this  bond,  he  comes  to  me  to  find  out  what  officer  holds 
the  papers  I  gave ;  I  answer,  wearily,  that  I  have  so  many 
things  of  that  sort  to  do  that  I  really  cannot  keep  up  with 
every  bailiff  that  serves  papers  for  me.  I  kindly  suggest  to 
him  to  inquire  at  the  Justice's  Court  of  the  — district,  where 
the  case  is  returnable  and  the  papers  ought  to  be  filed.  He 
is  informed  there  that  the  papers  have  not  yet  been  filed  and, 
as  they  were  issued  by  some  other  magistrate,  he  (the  Jus- 
tice) of  course,  does  not  know  what  bailiff  served  them. 
Then  commences  a  tedious  and,  I  need  not  add,  an  exasper- 
ating and  hopeless  quest  for  the  magistrate  who  issued  the 
papers  and  the  bailiff  who  served  them.  In  the  meantime, 
the  wages  are  held  up  and  the  victim  is  fast  becoming  des- 
perate. Perhaps  he  is  rewarded  and  finds  the  officer,  in 
which  event  he  joyfully  files  his  bond  to  dissolve  the  garn- 
ishment and  release  his  wages,  and,  in  his  intense  relief,  he 
is  ready  to  overlook  the  fact  that  the  damage-bond  I  gave 
for  the  plaintiS  is  worth  exactly  its  weight  at  the  paper 
mill." 

The  narrator's  small,  fox-like  eyes  twinkled  as  he  ceased 
for  a  moment,  that  the  delectable  mental  morsel  might  be  en- 
joyed by  his  attentive  listener,  who  was  cracking  the  joints 
of  his  fingers,  a  method  of  indicating  his  intense  enjoyment 
peculiar  to  him. 

''You  remind  me  of  a  cat  torturing  a  mouse  :ha!  ha!  ha!" 
laughed  Potts. 


'o 


ETOWAH.  109 

The  narrator  proceeded  :  ''He  hurries  to  the  officer  of  the 
company  to  draw  his  long  over  due  wages,  and  is  horrified 
to  find  that  another  garnishment  from  another  officer  on 
the  same  claim  has  been  served  on  the  company,  and  that 
the  old  one  has  been  dismissed." 

"  The  indignant  rriil way  official  suggests,  in  rasping  tones, 
that  employees  who  don't  pay  their  debts  and  cau-e  the 
company  to  be  harass  3d  with  garnishments  had  better 
hunt  another  job.  The  paralyzed  engineer  makes  another 
bond  to  dissolve  the  garnishment  and  starts  out  on  the  same 
hopeless  rounds  again  until,  driven  by  starvation  and  de- 
spair, he  surrenders  at  discretion,  piys  his  debt,  and  goes 
away  a  sadder  and  much  wiser  man.  In  future  the  slight- 
est hint  that  I  hold  a  claim  against  him  is  sufficient  to  make 
him  remit  or  meet  it  with  a  promptness  that  would  make  a 
United  States  bond  blush  for  its  dilatoriness  in  meeting 
coupons  due." 

The  pious  Potts  had  rolled  off  his  chair  in  his  uncontrol- 
led merriment,  which  Stunner  thoroughly  enjoyed  while  he 
had  recourse  again  to  the  bottle. 

"  I  say,  Stunner,  said  Potts,  wiping  the  laughter-tears 
from  his  eyes,  "  'when  this  cruel  war  is  over, '  I  am  going  to 
turn  lawyer,  if  it  beats  money-lending,  and  I  want  you  to 
practice  law  with  me. " 

"  All  right,  pard ;  then  we  will  go  halvers  all  round ;  is  that 
to  be  understood  ?  " 

"  Oh !  yes,  said  Potts,  just  as  we  do  now ;  I  lend  the  money 
and  3^ou  collect  'the  piece  nearest  the  heart;'  then  we  go 
*  halvers, '  as  you  call  it.  By  the  way,  Stunner,  where  did 
you  learn  that  expression  ?  " 

"  In  the  army,  my  friend.  " 

"Which  army?'' 


110  ETOWAH. 

"  Ah !  now  you  have  me ;  I  don't  exactly  remember.  '* 

It  was  a  fact  that  thus  early  in  the  contest,  Stunner  had 
enlisted  in  both  the  Federal  and  Confederate  armies,  and 
contrived  to  keep  out  of  both. 

"  Now,  "  said  Potts,  as  he  received  from  Stunner  his  part 
oi  the  proceeds  of  recent  "  deals,"  "  tell  me  how  you  managed 
to  collect  the  debt  that  the  fellow  who  could  not  pay  the 
burial  expenses  of  his  wife  owed;  I  shaved  that  note  at  sev- 
enty-live per  cent.,  but  I  thought  I  would  lose  by  it ;  it  was 
a  great  risk.  Stunner — a  great  risk." 

"That  was  a  hard  un !  "  said  Stunner;  "let  me  see:  he 
owed  the  undertaker  for  burying  his  wife,  and  I  couldn't 
reach  him  by  garnishment  in  the  usual  style,  as  he  did  not 
work  for  a  corporation — always  look  into  that  feature,  my 
friend ;  it's  a  heap  safer  to  go  for  corporations.  But  this  fel- 
low had  a  great  deal  of '  human  nature'  in  him,  and  one  of 
my  detectives  caught  sight  of  him  visiting  down  in  Etowah. 
He  '  shadowed'  him  and  found  out  that  he  was  courting  a 
girl  and  had  engaged  himself  to  her.  He  notified  me  and  I 
dropped  on  to  his  racket,  and  found  out  his  days  for  visiting 
his  '  Jularky,'  and,  on  the  next  day  before  his  visit,  had  his 
prospective  father-in-law,  brother-in-law,  his  girl, and  his  girl's 
mother  all  served  with  garnishments  to  pay  into  court  any 
money  or  funds  they,  or  either  of  them,  held  belonging  to 
the  debtor,  so  that  it  could  be  applied  to  our  debt,  which  was 
for  the  coffin  and  burial  expenses  of  his  wife.  This  last  was 
written  in  red  ink  with  large  letters,  so  that  you  could  read 
it  half-a-mile  off  almost.  When  he  arrived  on  the  train 
and  went  round  to  see  his  girl,  the  old  man  fired  him  out  of 
the  house  and  her  brother  chased  him  out  of  town  with  a 
shot-gun  and  a  bull  dog.     He  came  round  to  my  office  in  a 


ETOWAH.  Ill 

few  days,  settled  the  claim,  and  we  are  the   best  of  friends 
Oh !  I  get  there  with  both  feet  every  time !  " 

"Indeed  3'^ou  do!"  said  Potts,  laughing  immoderately  as 
he  cordially  wrung  his  hands  and  left  the  office.  Such  was 
the  true  character  of  this  plotter  against  the  happiness  of 
Henry  Latane,  whose  object  in  visiting  Stunner  was  to  con- 
sult him  as  to  the  legal  liability  of  the  forgery  he  was  about 
to  commit,  in  order  to  break  up  the  engagement  between 
Latane  and  Clara  Leslie. 

For  selfish  purposes  he  "professed  religion,"  but  he  laughed 
in  his  sleeve  as  he  read  in  Holy  Writ  the  denunciation  by 
the  Master  of  men  like  himself: 

"Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees;  hypocrites  ye  are, 
as  graves  which  appear  not,  and  the  men  that  walk  over 
them  are  not  aware  of  them. 

"Woe  unto  you  also,  ye  lawyers,  for  ye  lade  men  with  bur- 
dens grievous  to  be  borne,  and  ye,  yourselves,  touch  not  the 
burdens  with  one  of  your  fingers.  Ye  have  taken  away  the 
key  of  knowledge :  ye  entered  not  in  yourselves,  and  them 
that  were  entering  in  ye  hindered. 

"And  as  He  said  these  things  unto  them,  they  began  to 
urge  Him  vehemently  and  to  provoke  Him  to  say  many 
things,  laying  in  wait  for  Him  and  seeking  to  catch  some- 
thing out  of  His  mouth  that  they  might  accuse." 

But  as  the  most  intolerable  tyranny  of  modern  times,  in 
America  at  least,  is  executed  under  cloak  of,  and  by  means 
of  the  law,  Potts  was  very  careful  not  to  subject  himself  to 
legal  liability  in  his  plottings  against  Henry  Latane. 

The  crime  of  forgery  was  so  easily  committed,  and  was 
detected  with  so  much  difficulty,  that  it  was  not  surprising 
that  this  unscrupulous  young  man  should  resort  to  it  in 
order  to  undermine  and  destrov  the  influence  of  his  success- 


112  ETOWAH. 

ful  rival.  In  England,  such  an  offence  was  formerly  pun- 
ished with  death,  but  the  forger  in  America,  if  rich,  has  only 
to  take  refuge  on  the  friendly  shores  of  Canada,  and,  when 
punished,  it  is  too  often  with  as  light  a  sentence  as  the  law 
will  permit.  But  the  astute  Potts  was  too  shrewd  to  over- 
step the  limits  of  the  "letter  of  the  law,"  and  what  he  now 
did  was  not  a  legal  forgery,  his  friend  Stunner  assured  him, 
though  the  results  would  have  been  less  painful  to  Henry 
Latane  and  Clara  Leslie,  had  he  forged  a  check  for  twenty 
thousand  dollars  and  absconded  with  the  money.  No  pe- 
cuniary result  would  follow  it;  no  note  involving  the  pay- 
ment of  money  was  to  be  forged. 

A  brief  retrospection  is  needed  that  the  reader  may  appre- 
ciate how  Potts  was  enabled  to  successfully  forge  the  name 
and  hand- writing  of  Henry  Latane.  In  ordinary  times  such 
proceedings  could  scarcely  happen  without  quick  discovery, 
but  in  time  of  war  it  is  the  unexpected  that  is  liable  to  hap- 
pen. 

His  knowledge  of  the  character  of  Henry  Latane  satisfied 
him  that  that  chivalrous  young  gentleman  would  remain 
at  his  post  of  duty  at  the  front  during  the  war,  and  that 
nothing  short  of  a  wound  or  physical  disability  would  cause 
him  to  return  home,  if  the  quasi  engagement  between  him- 
self and  Clara  Leslie  could  be  broken. 

The  reader  will  remember  that  the  guests  had  quickly 
departed  when  Henry  Latane  delivered  to  Colonel  Leslie  the 
telegram  which  announced  the  dangerous  condition  of  Hugh 
Leslie  in  the  hospital  at  Richmond. 

The  farewell  note,  written  by  Henry  Latane  to  Clara  Leslie, 
expressed  the  tenderest  solicitude  and  deepest  sympathy  for 
the  young  girl  to  whom  he  had  plighted  his  troth.     In  it  he 


ETOWAH.  113 

pledged  anew  his  love,  which  he  assured  her  would  never, 
under  any  circumstances,  diminish. 

In  the  excitement  and  confusion  which  followed,  he  could 
only  hand  this  note  to  her  maid,  who  placed  it  in  a  vase  on 
the  mantel  to  be  delivered  the  next  day.  The  vigilant  Potts 
had  observed  all  this,  and  it  was  the  work  of  a  moment  to 
abstract  it.  The  letter  which  he  now  wrote  and  substituted 
for  it  was  as  follows  :  "  Miss  Clara — Pardon  the  indiscretion 
which  prompted  me  to  address  you.  Believe  me,  I  did  not 
intend  to  do  it,  and  realize  already  that  it  was  an  injustice 
both  to  you  and  to  myself.  I  have  the  highest  respect  for 
you,  and  will  always  be  your  friend,  but  I  fear  that  our 
hearts  are  not  given  to  each  other  as  the  hearts  of  engaged 
people  should  be.  Think  no  more  of  it,  but  pardon  my  con- 
duct in  seeking  to  bind  the  destiny  of  one  too  young  yet  to 
know  her  own  mind  on  so  momentous  a  matter. 

Respectfully  yours, 

Henry  Latane." 

The  next  day  they  left  for  Richmond  before  it  occurred  to 
the  maid  to  deliver  it.  When  she  did  think  of  it  and  sought 
for  it,  it  was  not  to  be  found,  and  she  discreetly  said  nothing 
about  it. 

Months  passed.  One  day  Colonel  Leslie,  while  taking  his 
letters  from  this  vase  (where  Potts,  in  his  thoughtful  con- 
sideration, had  placed  them,  bringing  them  himself  from  the 
post-office),  found  the  note  given  above  and  signed  "  Henry 
Latane."  As  the  letter  was  not  enclosed  in  an  envelope,  he 
had  read  a  part  of  it  before  he  realized  its  import.  He  then 
read  andjre-read  it  carefully,  and,  nursing  his  indignation 
as  well  as  he  could,  he  resolved  that  his  daughter  should 
know  nothing  of  it. 


114  ETOWAH. 

Potts'  reflections  upon  this  feat,  while  not  very  cheering, 
were,  on  the  whole,  satisfactory. 

True,  if  Latane  should  discover  his  perfidy  in  suppressing 
a  letter  full  of  the  tenderest  solicitude  for  the  young  girl  who 
had  confided  her  happiness  to  his  keeping  and  substituting 
instead  the  infamous  one  he  wrote,  he  knew  that  swift  pun- 
ishment would  certainly  follow. 

But  how  was  he  to  discover  it? 

Many  months  would  almost  surely  elapse  before  Latane 
would  return  home,  and  his  position  in  the  post-office  en- 
abled him  to  destroy  every  letter  in  Latant^'s  hand-writing 
addressed  to  Clara  Leslie,  and  vice  versa.  ''  Long  before  they 
can  meet  again,"  he  thought,  "  the  seeds  of  doubt  and  of- 
fended pride  that  are  thus  sown  will  have  done  their  work." 

And  his  calculations  were  not  at  fault. 

Colonel  Leslie,  while  he  found  nothing  congenial  in  the 
companionship  of  Potts,  never  forgot  a  kindness  from  any 
source,  and  he  remembered  the  marked  consideration  and 
courtesy  shown  him  by  Potts  in  the  hours  of  his  deepest 
trouble  just  before  his  departure  for  Virginia.  Potts  was, 
therefore,  cordially  welcomed  when  he  improved  his  oppor- 
tunity by  calling  upon  Clara  Leslie,  though  he  always  asked 
for  her  father.  Clara  felt  an  intuitive  aversion  to  his  society, 
but  she  did  not  know  how  to  be  other  than  courteous  to 
every  one. 

Neither  Clara  nor  Henry  Latane  suspected  the  truth.  She 
was  cut  to  the  heart  by  his  unaccountable  silence  and  neg- 
lect ;  he  was  troubled  inexpressibly  by  her  failure  to  answer 
any  of  his  letters. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


ON  MOUNT  KENNESAW. 


The  appointed  day  for  the  horseback  ride  to  the  top  of 
the  mountain  had  arrived,  and  the  two  young  people  bad 
ceased  the  rapid  gait  by  which  they  approached  it  that  they 
might  the  better  converse. 

"November  is  my  favorite  month,"  said  Barnum;  "you 
know  it  begins  with  one  of  the  most  touching  fetes  of  the 
Catholic  church  to  the  head  of  all  the  saints — 'All  Saints 
Day' " 

"Yes,  as  an  Episcopalian,  I  knew  that,  but  I  thought  you 
were  a  Protestant,"  answered  Clara. 

"I  am,"  he  replied,  "but  my  parents  are  devout  Catholics, 
and  I  was  brought  up  to  believe  in  the  doctrines  of  that 
faith.  While  I  am  a  Protestant,  I  revere  the  Catholic  faith 
for  their  sake  as  well  as  for  its  own.  Besides,  one  cannot 
help  having  respect  for  a  church  which  numbers  139,000,000 
souls,  while  we  Protestants  only  number  59,000,000." 

"Is  that  true?     I  am  surprised  to  learn  that." 

"Yes,  and  the  Buddhists  number  170,000,000;  the  follow- 
ers of  Islam,  96,000,000;  the  Brahmins  60,000,000;  the 
Greek  church  62  000,000;  the  Jews    4,000,000 ;  the—" 

"Mercy!  mercy!"  cried  Clara;  "you  overwhelm  me  with 
your  statistics;  you  are  actually  as  bad  as  papa." 

"Very  well,"  said  Barnum,  "but  as  you  got  the  best  of  me 
last  night  in  an  argument,  I  was  determined  to  get  even  to- 
day if  I  could." 

"So  you  deliberately  primed  your  mind  for  the  occasion, 
did  you?     Really,  Mr.  Barnum,  I  feel  complimented." 


116  ETOWAH. 

"Not  SO,"  he  retorted,  "but  I  have  read  volumes  on  the 
subject  since  I  have  been  confined  to  my  room,  and  these 
statistics  have  lingered,  although  I  have  usually  very  little 
aptitude  for  dates  or  figures." 

"How  can  you,  a  Protestant,  approve  of  these  fetes  and 
august    ceremonials  of  the  Catholic   church?"   she  asked. 

"They  seem  to  me  to  partake  of  the  superstition  of  the 
heathens.  It  is  similar  to  the  Chinese  worship  of  idols, 
don't  yuu  think  so  ?" 

"Are  we  free  from  the  charge  of  preserving  Pagan  ideas  ?" 
he  answered.  "Do  you  not  know  that  the  name  of  this  very 
month  is  an  evidence  that  we  do  ?  The  same  pious  instincts, 
the  same  noble  and  ignoble  sentiments  animated  mankind 
in  Pagan  times  as  at  present,  and  we  do  well  to  preserve  all 
beautiful  ideas  or  customs.  The  Gregorian  hymn  is  a  Pagan 
hymn,  but  the  music  appeals  to  the  same  feelings  now  as  it 
did  in  Pagan  days." 

Clara's  quick  intelligence  eagerly  grasped  at  new  ideas^ 
and  she  said:  "Tell  me  about  November;  what  were  you 
going  to  say  about  the  name  of  this  month  ?" 

''Only  that  November — novem — means  ninth.  Now,  while 
November  is  the  eleventh  month  of  our  year,  we  have  pre- 
served the  Pagan  calendar,  for  the  Pagan  calendar  year 
begins  in  March,  thus  making  November  the  ninth  month." 

"That  is  anew  and  interesting  fact  to  me;  but  I  should 
have  known  it,  because  the  French  language  has  preserved, 
in  the  same  way,  the  Pagan  names  for  the  days  of  the  week  : 
Lundi — our  Monday — is  the  day  of  la  Lune  (the  moon)  ; 
Mardi  (Tuesday),  the  day  of  Mars;  Mercredi  (Wednesday),  j 
the  day  of  Mercury;  Jeudi  (Thursday),  the  day  of  Jupiter; 
Vendredi  (Friday),  the  day  of   Venus:  Samedi  (Saturday), 


ETOWAH.  117 

the  day  of  Saturn;  and  Dimanche   (Sunday),  the  day  of 
Dieu — (God).     I  learned  that  much,  at  least,  at  school." 

Barnum  smiled  at  the  naivete  with  which  she  related  these 
facts  that  are  familiar  to  every  school-girl;  for  every  lan- 
guage, probably,  accounts  in  a  similar  way  for  the  days  of 
the  week.  There  was  in  Clara's  character  a  mingling  of 
the  innocence  of  childhood  with  the  unusual  knowledge 
which  foreign  travel  gives  to  the  mind  that  he  had  never 
known  before.  The  study  of  her  character  was  to  him  an 
open  chapter  of  pleasing  surprises,  brightened  by  wit  and 
merriment. 

"What  are  you  smiling  at,  Mr.  Barnum?"  she  asked.  "I 
don't  like  to  be  laughed  at." 

"It  was  not  in  ridicule.  Miss  Clara;  I  was  only  thinking 
of  a  delightful  scene  which  I  saw  while  walking  in  the  vil- 
lage last  Sunday.  A  gentleman  was  walking  with  his  little 
girl,  who  seemed  to  be  three  or  four  years  old ;  her  manner 
and  yours  were  somewhat  alike,  as  you  replied  just  now,  as 
if  to  say  :  'I  have  found  a  fact  and  am  going  to  grasp  it.'  " 

"What  was  my  little  prototype  doing?" 

"She  was  trying  to  catch  the  shadow  of  her  father  as  he 
walked  between  her  and  the  sunlight.  One  moment  she 
stood  with  expectant  air  as  he  moved  forward,  telling  her 
that  he  was  going  to  hold  it  down  with  his  foot;  then,  as  it 
evaded  her,  she  darted  forward  to  catch  the  fleeing  shadow; 
and  then  suddenly  she  stopped,  half  in  inquiry,  half  in 
explanation,  as  she  traced  the  shadow  to  its  substance.  I 
would  give  a  great  deal  for  a  photograph  of  the  swiftly 
changing  emotions  pictured  on  the  face  of  that  little  inno- 
cent," said  Barnum. 

"And  you  would  compare  me  to  a  little  girl  three  years 


118  ETOWAH. 

old,  would  you  ?     You  think  I  am  as  simple  as  a  child,  do 
you  ?" 

There  was  pretended  indignation  and  coquettish  gratifica- 
tion in  her  tone  and  manner,  but  Barnum  was  equal  to  the 
occasion,  for  he  answered  : 

"Oh,  no;  I  tbink  you  are  wise  beyond  your  years — the 
most  womanly  girl  I  know — but  you  are  as  guileless  and 
innocent  as  that  little  child." 

The  woman  who  is  proof  against  such  agreeable  and  well- 
timed  flattery  as  this  has  yet  to  be  born.  Clara,  at  all 
events,  was  not,  for,  holding  her  hand  toward  him,  she  smil- 
ingly said :  "I  will  have  to  forgive  you,  after  that  pretty 
speech." 

They  rode  for  a  short  time  without  speaking,  but  finally 
Barnum  said  :  "I  don't  know  why  I  should  have  thought 
of  Catholic  customs  to-day,  unless  my  mind  unconsciously 
turned  to  the  time  when  I  first  saw  you  as  an  embryo  Sister 
of  Charity." 

"That  remark  reminds  me  of  a  very  dear  friend  of  mine 
who  has  become  really,  and  I  think  forever,  a  Sister  of  Char- 
ity. You  should  have  known  her,  for  she  was  my  poor 
brother's  fianc  e  at  the  time  of  his  death — the  sweetest  tem- 
pered, best  and  truest  girl  I  know  is  Nathalie  Blanc."  Then, 
pausing  a  moment,  she  added :  "There  is  something  about 
the  falling  leaves  of  autumn  that  recalls  to  me  the  loved 
ones  that  have  fallen." 

They  had  reached  the  summit  of  the  mountain  as  this 
speech  was  uttered,  and  Barnum  aided  her  to  dismount. 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  a  splendid  day,  when  the  varied 
colors  of  spring  seemed  united  to  the  golden  yellow  of  au- 
tumn. Advancing  to  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  they  viewed 
the  landscape. 


ETOWAH.  119 

Barnum  had  fully  recovered  from  his  wound,  and  was  evi- 
dently more  interested  in  his  fair  young  companion  than  in 
the  scenery. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of,  Miss  Clara?"  said  Barnum, 
after  a  few  moments'  silence. 

"Strange  to  say,  I  was  thinking  of  a  quotation,  and  won- 
dering whether  the  poet  was  right  in  thinking  spring  the 
loveliest  of  the  seasons." 

"What  is  the  quotation  which  can  take  your  mind  from 
this  beautiful  view  ?  I  think  'Indian  summer'  is  the  love- 
liest of  the  four  seasons,"  he  replied. 

"It  does  not  take  my  mind  away  from  it;  indeed,  the 
quotation  was  recalled  by  it — 

*0  Primavera,  gioventu  dell  natura, 
O  gioventu  !  primavera  della  vita,'  " 
she  answered. 

"That  sounds  beautifully  ;  what  is  the  sense  of  it?" 
"  'Oh  !  springt-iine,  youth  of  fair  nature, 
Oh,  youth  !  spring-time  of  life,'  " 
she  answered,  then  asked : 

"Do  you  understand  Italian  ?" 

"No ;  where  did  you  learn  it  ?" 

"I  studied  Italian  in  Italy ;  we  lived  there  a  year— the 
year  before  we  lived  in  Switzerland.  You  know  I  call 
Geneva  my  European  home.  My  father  wanted  me  to  learn 
French  and  Italian,  so  as  to  read  and  speak  it  fluently.  The 
sentence  conveys  a  beautiful  idea,  I  think." 

"So  do  I.     Did  you  ever  read  a  novel  in  that  language  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed;  and  the  best  one,  I  think,  is  'Doctor 
Antonio.'  The  author  wrote  it  himself  in  English,  French 
and  Italian,  the  latter  being  his  native  tongue,  and  it  is  a 
classic  in  each." 


120  ETOWAH. 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,  for  I  have  read  the  English  ver- 
sion. Don't  you  think  European  novelists  have  greatly  the 
advantage  of  our  American  novelists  ?" 

"I  had  not  thought  of  it,  but  since  you  have  suggested  it, 
I  will  say  that  I  do.  There  is  no  room  for  a  Thackeray  in 
Republican  America,  where  there  is  no  aristocracy,  but  we 
have  a  Dickens  already." 

"And  who  is  he?"  queried  Barnum. 

"Bret  Harte,"  she  answered. 

"Who  is  the  author  of  the  quotation  you  have  just  ut- 
tered, Miss  Clara  ?" 

"I  do  not  know.  I  heard  it  quoted  first  by  my  teacher, 
Madame  R.,  with  whom  we  made  the  ascent  of  the  Voirons, 
which,  DeSaussure  says,  offers  the  finest  view  among  the 
Alps ;  and  whenever  I  see  a  beautiful  mountain  view  it  re- 
curs to  me." 

"But  is  not  the  effect  of  seeing  those  grandest  scenes  of 
nature  to  render  insignificant  our  little  mountains  here?" 

"Oh,  no !  Do  you  know  I  have  a  fancy  that  a  beautiful 
view,  if  you  really  enjoy  it  intensely,  as  I  do,  is  never  lost, 
and  each  successive  landscape  adds  to  that  which  preceded 
it?  And  then,  Mr.  Barnum,  these  'little  mountains,'  as  you 
call  them,  are  ours." 

"Thac's  a  new  idea,"  said  Barnum ;  "your  look,  tone,  gest- 
ures, all  seem  to  imply,  as  you  gaze  at  yonder  distant  blue 
range,  that  they  are  ^/oitr  individual  property." 

"And  they  are !  Put  into  the  soul  of  the  humblest  of 
God's  creatures  an  appreciative  taste  of  'The  True,  the 
Beautiful,  and  the  Good,'  as  Guizot  expresses  it,  and  place 
them  on  any  mountain  in  one's  native  country,  and  who 
can  rob  him  of  his  appreciation  of  the  glorious  sky,  and  sea, 
and  lake,  or  wood  ?" 


ETOWAH.  121 

"But  why  couldn't  you  feel  the  same  sense  of  appropria- 
tion amid  the  Alps?" 

"Oh !  Mr.  Barnum,  I  don't  know  how  to  answer  you,  but 
I  did'nt.  I  could  only  feel  the  insignificance  of  all  human 
things  there.  I  can  see  them  now— Mont  Blanc  and  many 
lesser  monarchs  that  pierce  the  very  skies— the  sunset  glow 
on  their  icy  peaks  resplendent  as  burnished  gold,  and  a 
thousand  times  finer  than  any  painting !  Then  follows  the 
re-gloiv  illuming  the  snow  peaks  with  all  the  colors  of  the 
prism,  and  far  more  beautiful  than  the  sunset  itself.  I  have 
never  seen  this  reglow  except  amid  the  Alps." 

"You  certainly  are  an  enthusiast  in  your  love  for  beauti- 
ful scenery,"  said  Barnum. 

"I  confess  that  I  am,"  she  replied.  ''I  think  with  Victor 
Hugo  that  the  study  of  nature  detracts  in  no  degree  from 
the  successful  pursuit  of  the  practical  things  of  life;  that 
the  spirit  which  knows  how  to  be  free  and  winged  with  the 
birds,  perfumed  among  the  flowers,  mobile  and  vibrating 
amid  the  waves  and  the  trees,  elevated,  serene  and  peaceable 
among  the  mountains,  knows  also  when  the  hour  comes, 
and  better  perhaps  than  any  one,  how  to  be  intelligent  and 
eloquent  among  men." 

Then,  after  a  brief  silence,  during  which  Barnum  was 
contemplating  the  expressive  face  before  him  instead  of  the 
scenery,  as  her  very  soul  seemed  interpreted  by  her  animated 
features,  she  continued  : 

"Mr.  Barnum,  look  there!"  From  the  rocky  heights  the 
eye  sweeps  over  valleys,  while  lower  mountain  spurs  trend 
far  away  until  they  melt  in  the  horizon.  "How  beau- 
tiful that  view  is!  But  it  is  much  finer  than  this,"  she 
added,  "at  Dablonega;  the  isolated  peaks  there  rise  in  sep- 


122  ETOWAH. 

arate  groups  like  the  far-famed  Saxon-Switzerland.     I  think 
I  can  see  the  Dahlonega  mountains  over  there." 

''  Do  you  know  that  3^ou  look  like  Murillo's  Madonna,  with 
your  hair  all  falling  loose  that  way  ?  "  he  asked,  unmindful 
of  the  beauties  of  the  landscape. 

"  Fiddlesticks !  You  haven't  a  particle  of  sentiment,  or 
you  would  at  least  refrain  from  making  allusions  that  spoil 
mine." 

"  Pardon  me ;  you  are  mistaken  ;  ray  trouble,  I  fear,  is  that 
I  have  too  much  sentiment,  and  I  am  greatly  tempted  to 
give  it  utterance." 

The  scene  and  the  occasion  certainly  seemed  propitious. 
The  air  was  redolent  with  roses  and  flowering  shrubs,  laugh- 
ing at  autumn  and  tossing  sweet  blossoms  to  the  amorous 
breeze  on  this  vernal  belt  which  clothes  the  rim  of  these 
Southern  mountains  with  perpetual  verdure. 

The  young  soldier's  convalescence  admonished  him  that 
it  was  his  duty  to  report  at  Richmond  and  resume  his  place 
as  a  prisoner  of  war  until  he  could  be  exchanged.  During 
the  months  of  his  daily  association  with  Colonel  Leslie's 
household,  Clara's  cheerful  voice,  as  she  read  or  talked  to  the 
helpless  invalid,  had  become  the  sweetest  of  sounds  to  him, 
and  her  gentle  smile  thrilled  his  heart  with  happiness. 
Clara  did  not  dream  of  his  infatuation  ;  it  had  not  occurred 
to  her  that  Barnum  would  be  a  suitor  for  her  hand.  To  him, 
too,  the  idea  was  surrounded  with  difiiculties,  but  long  ago 
he  had  surrendered  his  heart  to  her  in  his  secret  thoughts. 
His  sense  of  honor  told  him  that  the  war  itself  was  an  in- 
surmountable barrier  if  he  returned  to  what  his  conscience 
told  him  was  his  duty,  the  prosecution  of  the  war  for  the 
restoration  of  the  Union. 


ETOWAH.  123 

A  question  from  his  unsuspecting  companion  brought  him 
to  his  senses  again. 

''  Mr.  Barnum,  you  have  told  me  that  you  once  lived  here  a 
a  short  time,  and  left  to  enter  the  Northern  army  ;  were  you 
ever  on  this  mountain  before?" 

"Oh,  yes,  frequently;  we  used  to  come  here  to  get  cedars 
with  which  to  decorate  the  ball-room  at  the  Military  Insti- 
tute for  the  commencement  ball.  By  the  way,  it  is  just  over 
there,"  pointing  as  he  spoke  in  the  direction  of  the  Institute. 
"  We  had  a  gay  time  there.  No  ball  can  compare  with 
a  cadet  ball  during  commencement  week." 

Clara  had  been  occupied,  meanwhile,  in  gathering  fern 
leaves  and  flowers,  and  she  appeared  for  the  moment  to  be 
oblivious  of  everything  else.  The  wind  had  blown  her  hat 
from  her  head,  and  her  thick,  luxuriant  hair  becoming  un- 
confined  reveled  in  disorder.  It  was  fairer  in  his  eyes,  as  he 
had  stated,  than  the  chevelure  of  Murillo's  Madonna.  Rich 
color  mantled  her  cheeks,  and  her  graceful,  lissome  figure 
never  appeared  to  better  advantage.  There  was  an  air  of 
coquetry  about  her,  which  seems  as  natural  to  pretty  women 
as  the  air  they  breathe,  and  Barnum  recalled  mentally  the 
various  characters  in  which  she  had  enacted  a  part,  and  in 
all  of  them  had  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  heroine. 

Now,  filled  with  enthusiasm  inspired  by  the  lovely  scenery 
and  bracing  air,  she  seemed  the  incarnation  of  feminine  co- 
quetry, free  from  all  the  ills  and  all  the  cares  that  flesh  is 
heir  to.  He  had  never  looked  at  her  so  intently  before.  His 
very  silence  was  unusual,  and  there  was  a  sad,  wistful, 
earnest  look  in  his  eyes  which  she  had  never  before  noticed. 
The  sun  was  melting  into  splendor,  as  all  the  colors  of  the 
prism  seemed  to  glow  in  the  western  sky. 

"  Mr.  Barnum,  I  don't  wish  to  be  inquisitive,  but  may  I 


124  ETOWAH. 

ask  3^ou  to  relate  to  me  your  feelings   when   you  left  the 
South?" 

''  Miss  Clara,  there  is  no  wish  on  earth  which  you  could 
utter  which  would  offend  me.  I  owe  my  life  to  your  un- 
ceasing care.  There  is  nothing  which  could  give  me  so 
much  happiness  as  to  feel  that  I  could  contribute  to  your 
enjoyment  or  happiness.  Sit  down  here  and  I  will  tell  you 
of  the  greatest  trial  of  my  life — except  one,"  he  added,  look- 
ing at  her  sweet  young  face  upturned  to  his  with  all  a  girl's 
interest  in  some  interesting  revelation  about  to  be  made. 

There  they  sat  on  a  rock  near  the  summit  of  the  Kenne 
saw,  while  he  simply  narrated  the  following  incident  : 

"  A  wealthy  young  Texan  named  Moyer  had  been  chosen 
as  captain  of  the  '  Raccoon  Roughs, '  a  militarj^  company 
raised  in  this  vicinity.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Senior 
class  and  we  gave  him  a  farewell  banquet.  In  two  months 
I  would  have  graduated,  and  I  intended  to  remain  until 
after  that  event,  as  the  first  battle  had  not  then  taken  place, 
and  I  hoped  tbat  peace  might  be  maintained.  Moyer's  in- 
timate friend  was  a  youth  named  Latane"— Clara  started 
with  surprise  as  she  heard  this  name,  but  Barnum  did  not 
notice  it  and  continued — "a  chivalrous,  gallant  fellow,  full 
of  enthusiasm,  who,  like  the  rest,  was  burning  with 
ardor  to  resist  the  '  invasion  of  his  country,'  as  he  termed  it. 
A  stone  loosened  from  its  place  here  where  we  sit  will  bound 
down  the  mountain  side,  leaping  from  cliff  to  cliff,  from 
precipice  to  precipice,  crashing  great  trees  in  its  course, 
until  its  course  is  run.  A  tiny  ball  of  snow  gathers  strength 
and  volume  as  it  rolls  over  and  over  in  its  impetuous 
course,  until  'tis  merged  in  the  mighty  avalanche  which 
cuts  down  trees  and  plants,  and  sweeps  all  before  it,  a  very 
besom  of  destruction.     The  war  spirit  of  those  youths  was 


ETOWAH. 


125 


like  the  stone  and  the  avalanche  :  nothing  could  moderate  it. 
The  demon  of  Discord  was   at  work,  and  ah  1   so   cheerily. 
From  the  press  I  learned  that  in  every  city,  town  and  vil- 
lage beaming  lights  signalled  the  great  event.     '  The  South- 
ern Cross  lighted  the  sky,'  said  one  paper.     Impulsive  hearts 
caught  like  tinder,  and  a  mistaken  patriotism  glowed  like  a 
flame!     Men,  women  and  children  caught  the  infection  of 
enthusiasm  which  spread  from  city  to  city  and  from  State 
to  State  until  seven  States  had  seceded.     Think  of  it !  2,700- 
000  whites,  who  undertgok  to  control  a  population  of  2,300- 
OUO  blacks,  and  defend  a  territory  of  564,000  square  miles 
against   35,000,000   whites    with    Europe    as    a   recruiting 
ground !     A  people  who  had  not  one  vessel  and  no  arsenals 
or  manufacturers  of  arms  against  one  of  the  maritime  pow- 
ers of  the  world !     It  was   the  wildest  folly!     I  thought  so 
then  ;  I  think  so  now\     After  many  toasts  and  college  songs, 
Latane,  rising  with   the  glass   filled  to  the  brim,  proposed : 
'  The  Confederate  Flag !     Long  may  it  wave !     Down  with 
the  Union ! ' 

"The  guests  arose  as  one  man,  with  one  exception,  and 
drained  their  glasses.  The  one  exception  was  captain 
of  Company  C,  a  native  of  New  York.  He  was  also  an  as- 
sistant professor,  which  was  the  highest  academic  honor. 
At  his  side  sat  the  Senior  Cadet  Captain,  Blount,  the  noblest 
fellow  I  ever  knew." 

Barnum  paused  for  a  moment  and  pointed  to  the  descend- 
ing sun. 

*'Go  on,  "  said  Clara;  "father  knows  I  am  with  you,  and 
hence  will  not  feel  uneasy  about  me.  " 

Barnum  smiled  and  continued  :  "  Latane  noticed  it  first, 
and  added  a  hot-headed  speech  about  '  skulkers, '  and  those 
who  sought  '  bomb-proof  places.'      Blount  arose  to  reply,  for 


126  ETOWAH. 

Latane  was  his  best  friend,  and  he  wished  to  check  him  in 
time.  I  motioned  him  to  sit  down,  and,  with  my  glass  still 
untouched,  replied  to  Latane.  I  stated  that  my  native  State 
had  not  seceded,  and  I  hoped  it  never  would !  I  added  that 
I  honored  their  determination  to  go  with  their  States  and 
fight  for  that  which  they  thought  was  right.  I  stated  that  I 
intended  to  do  likewise,  and  would  tender  my  sword  in  de- 
fense of  the  Union.  I  left  the  next  day  with  Tom  Moyer's 
Company  and,  passing  through  Richmond,  went  to  New 
York.  My  subsequent  history  you  know.  I  will  add  that 
Henry  Latane  was  the  first  to  grasp  my  hand,  and  Blount 
proposed  a  toast  in  my  honor,  to  which  all  cordially  drank, 
and  we  parted  more  like  brothers  than  enemies;  I  never  had 
nobler  friends.  " 

Clara  had  listened  to  this  recital  with  unflagging  interest — 
an  interest  all  the  greater  because  of  the  allusions  to 
Latane. 

"  You  said  there  was  a  trial  greater  than  that  severance  of 
college  ties  and  friendships?  " 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  it  is?  "  he  said,  as  he  looked  into 
her  face  with  a  pleading,  earnest  look.  She  did  not  reply, 
and  Barnum  continued  :  ''  But  for  you,  Miss  Clara,  I  would 
have  died  in  the  hospital;  but  for  Hugh,  upon  the  battle- 
field. I  used  to  think,  before  I  knew  who  you  were,  that  it 
was  worth  getting  desperately  wounded  to  see  this  lovely 
nurse ;  and  often  did  I  lament  the  garb  which  told  me  that, 
even  if  I  could  win  your  love,  you  had  placed  an  eternal 
barrier  between  us  when  you  entered  the  convent.  I  used 
to  spend  my  hours  in  thinking  how  you  could  be  rescued 
and  returned  to  that  world  which  you  are  so  fitted  to  adorn. 
Indeed,  you  are  too  sweet,  too  lovely  to  be  a  nun !  " 

This  was  said  in  a  simple,  manly  way — the  honest  out- 


ETOWAH.  12T 

pouring  of  a  grateful  heart  warmed  to  enthusiasm  by  scene, 
time  and  circumstances.  Clara,  divining  with  feminine  in- 
tuition what  was  to  follow,  sought  to  change  the  conversa- 
tion by  asking:  ''And  now,  Mr.  Barnum,  will  you  return 
to  the  army  again  ?  " 

'' That  is  what  tries  me;  that  is  the  greatest  trial  of  my 
life.  It  is  my  duty  to  return  and  fight  in  support  of  my  con- 
victions, but  when  I  think  that  my  sword  will  be  turned 
against  my  benefactors,  my  saviors;  against  those  whom 
you  love;  a,g3binst  you  whom  I  love  with  all  the. earnestness, 
all  the  tenderness  of  my  nature— more  than  life  itself — I 
hesitate." 

The  trembling  tones  of  his  voice  and  his  impassioned 
manner  lelt  no  ground  for  doubting  his  sincerity. 

The  announcement  was  so  unexpected,  and  it  seemed  so 
singular  that  two  strong  and  valiant  men  should  ask  her 
opinion  in  a  matter  of  so  much  moment,  and  each  do  it  at 
the  time  that  he  declared  his  attachment  for  herself,  that 
Clara  was  overwhelmed.  Too  sincere  to  trifle  with  the  affec- 
tions of  such  a  man  as  this  young  Northern  officer  had  proven 
himself  to  be,  too  fearless  in  her  purity  to  dissemble,  she, 
acting  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  said  :  "Do  not  ask  me, 
but  follow  the  instincts  of  your  own  heart.  If  I  were  a  man 
I  would  scorn  not  to  be  a  soldier  at  this  time.  But  I  cannot 
appreciate  your  feeling  of  loyalty  to  the  old  Union.  But, 
Mr.  Barnum,  go  where  you  will,  you  must  always  feel  that 
my  poor  brother's  friend  is  very  dear  to  us.  I  know  that 
you  will  never  do  anything  dishonorable,  and— try  to  think 
of  me  as  of  a  relative  whose  interest  in  you  is  second  only  to 
that  of  your  parents."  She  ceased,  surprised  at  herself. 
Her  hand  was  placed  unconsciously  upon  his  arm,  her  speech 
was  as  earnest  as  his,  and  yet  the  one  expression  which  he 


i 


128  ETOWAH. 

longed  for  was  absent.  Taking  her  little  hand  in  his  strong, 
nervous  clasp  he  held  it  a  moment,  looking  the  while  into 
the  very  depths  of  her  pure,  honest  eyes,  then  bent  low  his 
head  and  kissed,  kissed  reverentially,  that  hand  which  lay 
unresisting  in  his  own. 

Superb  self-control,  buoyed  by  self-esteem,  animated  these 
two  young  people. 

''It  is  time  that  we  returned,"  said  Barnum ;  "I  see  the 
lights  in  the  village,  and  I  would  not  have  your  father  think 
that  I  had  intentionally  abused  the  last  evening  I  spend 
under  his  hospitable  roof." 

"Surely  you  are  not  going  away  ?" 

The  agitation  which  Clara  displayed  as  she  asked  this 
question  was  like  an  elixir  to  his  hopes,  but  it  passed  away 
in  a  moment  as  his  better  nature  re-asserted  itself.  Even  if 
he  could  induce  her  to  confess  that  the  attachment  was 
mutual,  did  he  have  the  right,  as  an  honorable  man,  to  do 
it  ?  Should  he,  the  avowed  enemy  of  her  country  and  of 
the  cause  for  which  her  idolized  brother  had  yielded  his 
young  life,  should  he  ask  this  ? 

The  whole  solemnity  of  the  subject  rose  with  prophetic 
clearness  before  his  vision,  and,  curbing  all  that  he  longed 
to  say,  he  said  :  "Yes,  I  will  leave  to  morrow ;  it  is  not  hon- 
orable for  me  to  remain  longer.  I  owe  to  your  dear  father 
my  immunity  from  prison  thus  far,  and  now  I  am  well  and 
strong,  and  I  shall  return  at  once  to  Richmond  and  take  my 
place  until  duly  exchanged. 

But,  Miss  Clara,  for  the  last  time  perhaps  on  earth  we 
are  alone  together,  and  I  must  speak  freely.  I  would  not 
have  you  pledge  me  your  love  if  I  had  won  it,  which  I  see 
I  have  not,  but  you  must  always  remember  that  I  love  you 
as  I  love  no  one  else  on  earth.     I  see  that  it  is  hopeless  to 


ETOWAH.  129 

expect  a  return  of  such  love  as  I  feel,  but  I  can  never  look 
upon  you  as  a  mere  relative.  Even  if  you  loved  me  it  would 
be  wild,  foolish,  wrong  to  indulge  it,  for  this  dreadful  war 
will  lead  our  lives  apart." 

She  could  not  answer  him,  but  her  agitation  and  her  ina- 
bility to  say  a  word  as  they  rode  slowly  homeward  left  a 
thrill  of  hope  in  his  breast  that  he  dared  not  express. 

9 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  SLAVE  MART. 


The  day  before  Barnum  left  this  hospitable  home  to  deliver 
himself  as  a  prisoner  at  Richmond,  a  conversation  with  Col- 
onel Leslie  as  to  the  cost  of  emancipation  and  the  evils  inci- 
dent to  the  separation  of  families  made  him  eager  to  person- 
ally witness  a  public  auction  of  slaves.  Richmond  contained 
the  only  regular  auction  mart  of  this  kind  in  the  South,  and 
it  was  an  easy  matter  for  him  to  gratify  this  curiosity,  which 
could  never  be  witnessed  again  if  emancipation  became  a 
reality.     In^that  conversation  Barnum  said : 

''  It  will  be  a  great  financial  loss,  then,  if  emancipation 
shall  result  from  the  war." 

"  Yes,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  the  war  will  determine 
that.  Take  any  part  of  the  New  England  States,  the  nursery 
of  abolitionism,  and  so  arrange  the  territory  as  to  em- 
brace eight  millions  of  people ;  then  take  away  from  the  ac- 
cumulated savings  of  the  most  industrious  and  thrifty  of 
her  people  over  two  thousand  millions  of  dollars  by  the 
stroke  of  a  pen,  in  what  condition  would  it  leave  them  ?  " 

"It  would  convert  it  into  a  wilderness,  because  the  people 
would  abandon  it  and  go  West,"  answered  Barnum. 

"  Precisely ;  and  yet  that  is  exactly  what  the  abolitionists 
propose  that  we  shall  do.  The  issue  is  made  up,  and  neither 
you  nor  I  can  avert  the  consequences.  Each  of  us  must  do 
as  his  conscience  shall  dictate.  But  do  not  be  deceived  by 
public  clamor.  Bear  in  mind  what  the  Democratic  conven- 
tion in  Indiana  has  just  unanimously  demanded — that  '  the 


'  ETOWAH.  131 

public  authorities  of  Indiana  shall  see  that  the  Constitution 
and  laws  of  the  State  are  enforced  against  the  entrance  of 
free  negroes  and  mulattoes ;'  declaring  that  '  when  the  peo- 
ple of  Indiana  adopted  the  negro  exclusion  clause  in  their 
Constitution  by  a  majority  of  ninety-four  thousand  votes, 
they  meant  that  the  honest,  laboring  white  man,  and  that 
he  alone,  was  suited  to  the  form  of  their  institutions.' 

"  To  appreciate  the  full  force  of  the  demand  made  upon 
the  South,  you  must  know  that  the  money  value  of  our  slaves 
is  greater  than  all  the  mills  and  factories  and  railroads  in  the 
United  States  combined.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  the  South 
has  staked  all  upon  this  war,  and  if  we  lose  we  will  not 
grumble  about  what  cannot  be  helped.  The  cost  of  war  is 
always  borne  by  the  defeated  country."  His  tone  and  man- 
ner indicated  very  clearly  that  he  had  no  doubt  about  the 
success  of  the  South. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  a  secessionist,  Colonel?" 

"  Ever  i?ince  the  promulgation  of  the  so-called  '  higher 
law.'  But  the  first  advocacy  of  the  constitutional  rights  of 
the  States  to  dissolve  the  Union  when  it  ceased  to  protect 
their  interests  came  from  the  foremost  abolition  State,  the 
State  of  Massachusetts." 

"  Indeed  1 "  said  Barnum ;  "  I  never  heard  that  before. 
Who  suggested  it?" 

"A  statesman  and  a  gentleman  for  whom  I  have  the  high- 
est respect.  In  1844  he  introduced  in  the  Massachusetts 
Legislature  resolutions  which  were  passed  by  that  body  re- 
specting the  annexation  of  Texas.  He  had  declared  therein, 
just  as  Josiah  Quincy  had  declared  with  reference  to  the  ac- 
quisition of  Louisiana,  'that  the  power  to  unite  an  inde- 
pendent foreign  State  with  the  United  States  is  not  among 
the  powers  delegated  to  the  general  government  by  the  Con- 


132  ETOWAH. 

stitution  of  the  United  States.'  He  declared  further  that 
the  Commonwealth  of  Miissachasetts,  faithful  to  the  compact 
with  the  people  of  the  United  States,  according  to  the  plain 
meaning  and  intent  in  which  it  was  understood  and  acceded 
to  by  them,  is  sincerely  anxious  for  its  preservation ;  and  that 
it  is  determined,  as  it  doubts  not  other  States  are,  to  submit  to 
undelegated  powers  in  no  body  of  men  on  earth ;  and  that 
the  project  of  the  annexation  of  Texas,  unless  resisted  on  the 
threshold,  may  tend  to  drive  these  States  into  a  dissolution 
of  the  Union."  Colonel  Leslie  had  read  this  extract  from  a 
slip  which  he  had  taken  from  his  pocket-book.  "  I  carry 
that  about  with  me  now,"  he  said,  "  that  I  may  have  my 
proof  at  hand  whenever  the  subject  is  discussed  in  my 
presence."  This  habit  caused  Judge  Bearing  to  call  him  a 
"walking  encyclopedia." 

"  The  great  misfortune,  my  young  friend,  is'that  the  politi- 
cal leaders  of  both  the  North  and  South  have  allowed  pas- 
sion to  master  reason,  and  are  willing  to  plunge  this  country 
into  a  bloody  war  rather  than  make  mutual  concessions. 

"  When  the  doctrine  of  an  '  irrepressible  conflict '  was  an- 
nounced, the  gauntlet  was  thrown  down.  When  this,  my 
native  State,  passed  the  ordinance  of  secession,  I  felt,  like 
the  Massachusetts  statesman,  that  she  had  exercised  her 
sovereign  right  and  loyalty  hade  me  ohey^ 

Colonel  Leslie's  remarks  concerning  slavery  lingered  in 
Barnum's  mind  as  he  proceeded  northward. 

Animated  by  a  spirit  of  adventure,  and  knowing  that  he 
would  never  be  able  to  witness  such  a  scene  again  if  the 
Union  armies  triumphed,  Barnum  strolled  forth  the  day  after 
his  arrival  in  Richmond,  to  find  a  slave-auction  house.  A 
public  sale  of  slaves  was  a  rare  spectacle  in  any  other  Southern 
State,  but  the  exposure  of  ordinary  goods  in  a  store  was  not 


ETOWAH.  133 

more  open  to  the  public  than  were  the  sales  of  slaves  in 
Richmond.  By  consulting  the  local  newspapers  Barnum 
learned  that  the  sales  took  place  every  morning  in  the  offices 
of  certain  brokers  who  purchased  or  received  slaves  for  sale 
on  commission. 

Where  the  street  was  in  which  the  brokers  conducted  their 
business  he  did  not  know,  but  the  discovery  was  easily 
made.  Rambling  down  the  main  street  in  the  city,  he  found 
that  the  subject  of  his  search  was  a  narrow  and  short  thor- 
oughfare turning  off  to  the  left  and  terminating  in  a  similar 
cross- thoroughfare.  Both  streets  were  lined  with  brick 
houses.  Looking  about,  he  observed  [the  office  of  a  commis- 
sion agent,  and  into  it  he  stepped.  It  was  a  large  shop  with 
two  windows  and  a  door  between ;  no  shelving  or  counters 
inside;  the  interior  a  spacious,  dismal  apartment;  the  only 
furniture  a  desk  at  one  of  the  windows  and  a  bench  at  one 
side  of  the  shop  three  feet  high,  with  two  steps  to  it  from 
the  floor,  This  dismal-looking  place  had  nobody  in  it  but 
three  negro  children,  who,  as  he  entered,  were  playing  at 
auctioneering  each  other.  An  intensely  black  little  negro 
of  four  or  five  years  of  age  was  standing  on  the  bench,  or 
block  as  it  is  called,  with  an  equally  black  girl  about  a  year 
younger  by  his  side,  whom  he  was  pretending  to  sell  by  bids 
to  another  black  child  who  was  rolling  about  the  floor. 

Barnum's  appearance  did  not  interrupt  the  merriment. 
The  little  auctioneer  continued  his  mimic  play,  and  appeared 
to  enjoy  the  joke  of  selling  the  girl,  [who  stood  demurely  at 
his  side. 

"  Fifty  dolla  for  de  gal— fifty  dolla— fifty  dolla.  I  sell  dis 
here  fine  gal  for  fifty  dolla,"  was  uttered  with  extraordinary 
volubility  by  the  woolly-headed  urchin,  accompanied  with 
appropriate  gestures  in  imitation,  doubtless,  of  the  scenes  he 


134  ETOWAH. 

had  seen  enacted  daily  on  the  spot.  Barnum  spoke  a  few- 
words  to  the  little  creatures,  but  was  scarcely  understood, 
and  the  fun  went  on  as  if  he  had  not  been  present;  so  he 
left  them,  happy  in  rehearsing  what  was  likely  soon  to  be 
their  own  fate. 

At  another  office  of  a  similar  character,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street,  he  was  more  successful.  Here,  on  inquiry, 
he  was  respectfully  informed,  by  a  person  in  attendance, 
that  the  sale  would  take  place  the  following  morning  at  half- 
past  nine  o'clock. 

Next  day  he  set  out  accordingly,  after  breakfast,  for  the 
ycene  of  operations,  in  which  there  was  now  a  little  more 
life.  Two  or  three  persons  were  lounging  about,  smoking 
cigars,  and,  looking  along  the  street,  he  observed  that  three 
red  flags  were  projected  from  the  doors  of  those  offices  in 
which  sales  were  to  occur.  On  each  flag  was  pinned  a  piece 
of  paper,  notifying  the  articles  to  be  sold.  The  number  of 
lots  was  not  great.  On  the  first  was  the  following  announce- 
ment: "Will  be  sold  this  morning,  at  half-past  nine  o'clock, 
a  man  and  a  boy." 

It  was  already  the  appointed  hour ;  but  as  no  company 
had  assembled,  he  entered  and  took  a  seat  by  the  fire.  The 
office,  provided  with  a  few  deal  forms  and  chairs,  a  desk  at 
one  of  the  windows,  and  a  block  accessible  by  a  few  steps, 
was  tenantless,  save  by  a  man  who  was  arranging  papers  at 
the  desk,  and  to  whom  he  had  addressed  himself  on  the 
previous  evening.  Minute  after  minute  passed,  and  still 
nobody  entered.  There  was  clearly  no  hurry  in  going  to 
business.  He  felt  almost  like  an  intruder,  and  had  formed 
the  resolution  of  departing  in  order  to  look  into  other  offices^ 
when  the  person  referred  to  left  his  desk  and  came  and 
seated  himself  opposite  to  him  at  the  fire. 


ETOWAH.  135 

''You  are  an  Englishman,"  said  he,  looking  steadily  in 
Barnum's  face ;  "do  you  want  to  purchase  ?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "I  am  an  Englishman ;  but  I  do  not  in- 
tend to  purchase.  I  am  traveling  about  for  information, 
and  I  shall  feel  obliged  by  your  letting  me  know  the  prices 
at  which  negro  servants  are  sold." 

"I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,"  was  the  answer ;  "do  you 
mean  field  hands  or  house  servants  ?" 

"All  kinds,"  replied  Barnum ;  "I  wish  to  get  all  the  in 
formation  that  I  can." 

With  much  politeness  the  man  stepped  to  his  desk  and 
began  to  draw  up  a  note  of  prices.  This,  however,  seemed 
to  require  careful  consideration,  and  while  the  note  was  pre- 
paring, a  lanky  person,  in  a  wide-awake  hat  and  chewing 
tobacco,  entered  and  took  the  chair  just  vacated.  He  had 
scarcely  seated  himself  when,  on  looking  towards  the  door, 
he  observed  the  subjects  of  sale — the  man  and  boy  indicated 
by  the  paper  on  the  red  flag — enter  together  and  quietly 
walk  to  a  form  at  the  back  of  the  shop,  whence,  as  the  day 
was  chilly,  they  edged  themselves  towards  the  fire,  in  the 
corner  where  Barnum  was  seated.  He  was  now  between  the 
two  parties — the  white  man  on  the  right,  and  the  old  and 
young  negro  on  the  left — and  he  waited  to  see  what  would 
take  place. 

The  sight  of  the  negroes  at  once  attracted  the  attention  of 
Wide-awake.  Chewing  with  vigor,  he  kept  keenly  eyeing 
the  pair,  as  if  to  see  what  they  were  good  for.  Under  this 
searching  gaze,  the  man  and  boy  were  a  little  abashed,  but 
said  nothing. 

Their  appearance  had  little  of  the  repulsiveness  we  are 
apt  to  associate  with  the  idea  of  slaves.  They  were  dressed 
in  a  gray  woolen  coat,  pants  and  waistcoat,  colored  cotton 


136  ETOWAH. 

neckcloths,  clean  shirts,  coarse  woolen  stockings,  and  stout 
shoes.  The  man  wore  a  black  hat ;  the  boy  was  bareheaded. 
Moved  by  a  sudden  impulse,  Wide-awake  left  his  seat,  and 
rounding  the  back  of  Barnum's  chair,  began  to  grasp  at  the 
man's  arms,  as  if  to  feel  their  muscular  capacity.  He  then 
examined  his  hands  and  fingers,  and,  last  of  all,  told  him  to 
open  his  mouth  and  show  his  teeth,  which  he  did  in  a  sub- 
missive manner.  Having  finished  these  examinations.  Wide- 
awake resumed  his  seat. 

Barnum  thought  it  was  but  fair  that  he  should  now  have 
his  turn  of  investigation,  and  accordingly  he  asked  the  elder 
negro  what  was  his  age.  He  said  he  did  not  know.  He 
next  inquired  how  old  the  boy  was.  He  said  he  was  seven 
years  of  age.  On  asking  the  man  if  the  boy  was  his  son,  he 
said  he  was  not,  he  was  his  cousin.  He  was  going  into 
other  particulars,  when  the  ofiice-keeper  approached  and 
handed  him  the  note  he  had  been  preparing,  at  the  same 
time  making  the  observation  that  the  market  was  dull  at 
present,  and  that  there  never  could  be  a  more  favorable  op- 
portunity of  buying.  Barnum  thanked  him  for  the  trouble 
he  had  taken,  and  then  read  the  following  price-current: 

Best  men,  18  to  25  years  old 1200  to  1300  dollars. 

Fair  do.        do.         do 950  to  1050 

Boys,5feet, 850  to    950 

Do.   4feet8inches 700  to    800      " 

Do.   4feet5inches 500  to    600       " 

Do.   4  feet 375  to    450      " 

Young  women 800  to  1000  .     '' 

Girls,5feet 750  to    850      *' 

Do.   4  feet  9  inches 700  to    750      " 

Do.   4  feet 350  to    450      " 

Leaving  the  document  for  future  consideration,  he  walked 


ETOWAH.  137 

out.  It  was  now  ten  minutes  to  ten  o'clock,  and  Wide- 
awake and  Barnum,  being  alike  tired  of  waiting,  went  ofi 
in  quest  of  sales  further  up  the  street.  Passing  the  second 
office,  in  which  also  nobody  was  to  be  seen,  they  were  more 
fortunate  at  the  third.  Here,  according  to  the  announce- 
ment on  the  paper  stuck  to  the  red  flag,  there  were  to  be 
sold  a  woman  and  three  children,  a  young  woman,  three 
men,  a  middle-aged  woman  and  a  little  boy.  Already  a 
crowd  had  met,  composed  of  persons  buying  for  the  cotton 
plantations  of  the  South.  A  few  were  seated  near  the  fire 
on  the  right-hand  side,  and  others  stood  round  an  iron  stove 
in  the  middle  of  the  apartment. 

On  his  arrival,  and  while  making  these  preliminary  ob- 
servations, the  lots  for  sale  had  not  made  their  appearance- 
In  about  five  minutes  afterward  they  were  ushered  in,  one 
after  another,  under  the  charge  of  a  mulatto,  who  seemed  to 
act  as  principal  assistant.  He  saw  no  whips,  chains  or  any 
other  engine  of  force.  Nor  did  such  appear  to  be  required. 
All  the  lots  took  their  seats  on  two  long  forms  near  the 
stove ;  none  showed  any  signs  of  resistance ;  nor  did  any 
one  utter  a  word.  Their  manner  was  that  of  perfect  humil- 
ity and  resignation. 

As  soon  as  all  were  seated,  there  was  a  general  examina- 
tion of  their  respective  merits  by  feeling  their  arms,  looking 
into  their  mouths,  and  investigating  the  quality  of  their 
hands  and  fingers— this  last  being  evidently  an  important 
particular.  Yet  there  was  no  abrupt  rudeness  in  making 
these  examinations ;  no  coarse  or  domineering  language  was 
employed.  The  three  negro  men  were  dressed  in  the  usual 
manner — in  gray  woolen  clothing.  The  woman  with  three 
children  excited  his  particular  attention.  She  was  neatly 
attired,  with  a  colored  handkerchief  bound  around  her  head, 


138  ETOWAH. 

and  wore  a  white  apron  over  her  dress.  Her  children  were 
all  girls,  one  of  them  a  baby  at  the  breast,  three  months 
old,  and  the  others  two  and  three  years  of  age  respectively, 
rigged  out  with  clean  white  pinafores.  There  was  not  a  tear 
or  an  emotion  visible  in  the  whole  party.  Everything 
seemed  to  be  considered  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  the 
change  of  owners  was  possibly  looked  forward  to  with  as 
much  indifference  as  ordinary  hired  servants  anticipate  a 
removal  from  one  employer  to  another. 

While  intending  purchasers  were  proceeding  with  personal 
examinations  of  the  several  lots,  Barnum  took  the  liberty 
of  putting  a  few  questions  to  the  mother  of  the  children.  The 
following  was  their  conversation  : 

•'Are  you  a  married  woman?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

''How  many  children  have  you  had?'' 

"Seven." 

''Where  is  your  husband  ?" 

"In  Madison  county." 

"When  did  you  part  from  him?" 

"On  Wednesday — two  days  ago." 

'•Were  you  sorry  to  part  from  him  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  she  replied,with  a  deep  sigh  ;  my  heart  was  a'most 
broke." 

"Why  is  your  master  selling  you?" 

''I  don't  know — he  wants  money  to  buy  some  land— sup- 
pose he  sells  me  for  that." 

There  might  not  be  a  word  of  truth  in  these  answers,  for 
he  had  no  means  of  testing  their  correctness ;  but  the  woman 
seemed  to  speak  unreservedly.  He  spoke  also  to  the  young 
woman  who  was  seated  near  her.  She,  like  the  others,  was 
perfectly  black,  and  appeared  stout  and  healthy,  of  which 


ETOWAH.  139 

some  of  the  persons  present  assured  themselves  by  feeling 
her  arms,  looking  into  her  mouth  and  causing  her  to  stand 
up.  She  told  him  she  had  several  brothers  and  sisters,  but 
did  not  know  where  they  were.  She  said  she  was  a  house- 
servant,  and  would  be  glad  to  be  bought  by  a  good  master, 
looking  at  him  as  if  he  should  not  be  unacceptable. 

There  was  an  entire  absence  of  emotion  in  the  looks  of 
men,  women  and  children,  thus  seated  preparatory  to  being 
sold.  This  did  not  correspond  with  the  ordinary  accounts 
of  slave-sales,  which  are  represented  as  tearful  and  harrow- 
ing. None  of  the  parties  seemed  to  feel  deeply  on  the  sub- 
ject, or  at  least  any  distress  they  experienced  was  but  momen- 
tary—soon passed  away  and  was  forgotten.  A  trifling  inci- 
dent proved  this.  While  waiting  for  the  commencement  of 
the  sale,  one  of  the  gentlemen  present  amused  himself  with 
a  pointer  dog,  which,  at  command,  stood  on  its  hind  legs 
and  took  pieces  of  bread  from  his  pocket.  These  tricks 
greatly  entertained  the  row  of  negroes,  old  and  young,  and 
the  poor  woman,  whose  heart,  three  minutes  before,  was 
almost  broken,  now  laughed  as  heartily  as  any  one. 

''Sale  is  going  to  commence — this  way,"  cried  a  man  at 
the  door  to  a  number  of  loungers  outside;  and  all  having 
assembled,  the  mulatto  assistant  led  the  woman  and  her 
children  to  the  block,  which  he  helped  her  to  mount. 
There  she  stood  with  her  infant  at  the  breast,  and  one  of 
her  girls  at  each  side. 

The  auctioneer,  a  handsome,  manly-looking  personage, 
took  his  place  with  one  foot  on  an  old  deal  chair  with 
a  broken  back,  and  the  other  raised  on  a  somewhat  more  ele- 
vated block.     It  was  a  striking  scene. 

''Well,  gentlemen,"  began  the  salesman,  "here  is  a  capital 
woman  and  her  three  children,   all  in  good  health — what 


140  ETOWAH. 

do  you  say  for  them  ?  Give  me  an  offer.  (Nobody  speaks.) 
I  put  up  the  whole  lot  at  eight  hundred  and  fifty  dollars — 
eight  hundred  and  fifty  dollars — eight  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  (speaking  very  fast) — eight  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars. Will  no  one  advance  upon  that?  A  very  extraordi- 
nary bargain,  gentlemen.  A  fine  healthy  baby.  Hold  it 
up.  (Mulatto  goes  up  the  first  step  of  the  block,  takes  the 
baby  from  the  woman's  breast,  and  holds  it  aloft  with  one 
hand,  so  as  to  show  that  it  was  a  veritable  sucking  baby.) 
That  will  do.  A  woman  still  young  and  with  three  children, 
all  for  eight  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  An  advance,  if  you 
please,  gentlemen.  (A  voice  bids  eight  hundred  and  sixty 
dollars.)  Thank  you,  sir ;  eight  hundred  and  sixty  dollars ; 
any  one  bids  more  ?  (A  second  voice  says,  eight  hundred 
and  seventy  dollars,  and  so  on,  the  bidding  goes  as  far  as 
eight  hundred  and  ninety  dollars,  when  it  stops)  "That 
won't  do,  gentlemen.  I  cannot  take  such  a  low  price.*' 
(After  a  pause,  addressing  the  mulatto):  "She  may  go  down." 
Down  from  the  block  the  woman  and  her  children  were  there- 
fore conducted  by  the  assistant,  and,  as  if  nothing  had 
occurred,  they  calmly  resumed  their  seats  by  the  stove. 

The  next  lot  brought  forward  was  one  of  the  men.  The 
assistant,  beckoning  to  him  with  his  hand,  requested  him  to 
come  behind  a  canvas  screen,  of  two  leaves,  which  was  stand- 
ing near  the  back  window.  About  a  dozen  gentlemen 
crowded  to  the  spot.  The  man  was  told  to  open  and  shut  his 
hands,  asked  if  he  could  pick  cotton,  and  his  teeth  were 
looked  at.  The  investigation  being  at  an  end,  he  was 
requested  to  walk  to  the  block. 

The  ceremony  of  offering  him  for  competition  was  gone 
through  as  before,  but  no  one  ^would  bid.  The  other  two 
men,  after  undergoing   similar    examinations  behind  the 


ETOWAH.  141 

screen,  were  also  put  up,  but  with  the  same  result.  Nobody 
would  bid  for  them,  and  thev  were  all  sent  back  to  their 
seats.  It  seems  as  if  the  company  had  conspired  not  to  buy 
anything  that  day.  Probably  some  imperfections  had  been 
detected  in  the  personal  qualities  of  the  negroes.  Be  this  as 
it  may,  the  auciioneer,  perhaps  a  little  out  of  temper  from 
his  want  of  success,  walked  off  to  his  desk,  and  the  affair 
was  so  far  at  an  end. 

"This  way,  gentlemen  !  this  way !"  was  heard  h'om  a  voice 
outside,  and  the  company  immediately  hurried  off  to  the 
second  establishment.  At  this  office  there  was  a  young 
woman  and  also  a  man  for  sale.  The  woman  was  put  up 
first  at  five  hundred  dollars ;  and  possessing  some  recom- 
mendable  qualities,  the  bidding  for  her  was  run  as  high  as 
seven  hundred  and  ten  dollars,  at  which  she  was  knocked 
down  to  a  purchaser.  The  man  was  put  up  at  seven  hun- 
dred dollars ;  but  a  small  imperfection  having  been  observed 
in  his  person,  no  one  would  bid  for  him,  and  he  was  ordered 
down. 

"This  way,  gentlemen !  this  way — down  the  street,  if  you 
please!"  was  now  shouted  by  the  person  in  the  employment 
of  the  first  firm,  to  whose  office  all  very  willingly  adjourned. 
In  going  in  the  crowd,  Barnum  went  to  see  what  should  be 
the  fate  of  the  man  and  boy,  with  whom  he  had  already 
had  some  communication. 

There  the  pair,  the  two  cousins,  sat  by  the  fire,  just  where 
he  had  left  them  an  hour  before.     The  boy  was  put  up  first. 

"Come  along,  my  man — jump  up ;  there's  a  good  boy  !" 
said  one  of  the  partners — a  bulky  and  respectable-looking 
person,  with  a  gold  chain  and  a  bunch  of  seals,  at  the  same 
time  getting  on  the  block.  With  alacrity  the  little  fellow 
came  forward,  and,  mounting  the  steps,  stood  by   his  side. 


142  ETOWAH. 

The  forms  in  front  were  filled  with  the  company,  and,  as 
Barnum  seated  himself,  he  found  that  his  old  companion, 
Wide-awake,  was  close  at  hand,  still  chewing  and  spitting 
at  a  great  rate. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  "  said  the  auctioneer,  putting  his  hand 
on  the  shoulder  of  the  boy,  "  he  is  a  very  fine  boy,  seven 
years  of  age,  warranted  sound — what  do  you  say  for  him  ? 
I  put  him  up  at  500  dollars  — 500  dollars  (speaking  quick, 
his  right  hand  raised  up  and  coming  down  on  the  open 
palm  of  the  left) — 500  dollars.  Any  one  say  more  than  500 
dollars  ?  (560  is  bid)  560  dollars.  Nonsense !  Just  look  at 
him.  See  how  high  he  is.  (He  draws  the  lot  in  front  of 
him,  and  shows  thac  the  little  fellow's  head  comes  up  to  his 
breast.)  You  see  he  is  a  fine,  tall,  healthy  boy.  Look  at  his 
hands.  " 

Several  step  forward  and  cause  the  boy  to  open  and  shut 
his  hands,  the  flexibility  of  the  small  fingers,  black  on  the 
one  side,  and  whitish  on  the  other,  being  well  looked  to. 
The  hands  and  also  the  mouth  having  given  satisfaction, 
an  advance  is  made  to  570,  then  to  580. 

"  Gentlemen,  that  is  a  very  poor  price  for  a  boy  of  this 
size.  "  (Addressing  the  lot.)  "  Go  down,  my  boy,  and  show 
them  how  you  can  run."  The  boy  seemingly  happy  to  do 
as  he  was  bid,  went  down  from  the  block,  and  ran  smartly 
across  the  floor  several  times,  the  eyes  of  every  one  in  the 
room  following  him. 

"  Now,  that  will  do.  Get  up  again.  "  (Boy  mounts  the 
block,  the  step  being  rather  steep  for  his  short  legs,  but  the 
auctioneer  kindly  lends  him  a  hand.)  "Come,  gentlemen, 
you  see  this  is  a  first  rate  lot.  "  (590,  600,  610,  620,  630  dollars 
are  bid.)  ''I  will  sell  him  for  six  hundred  and  thirty  dol- 
lars, twice.     (A  pause,  hand  sinks.)  Gone!  " 


ETOWAH,  14S 

The  boy  having  descended,  the  man  was  desired  to  come 
forward,  and  after  the  usual  scrutiny,  he  took  his  place  on  the 
block. 

"  Well,  now,  gentlemen, "  said  the  auctioneer,  "  here  is  a 
right  prime  lot.  Look  at  this  man ;  strong,  healthy,  able- 
bodied  ;  could  not  be  a  better  hand  for  field-work.  He  can 
drive  a  wagon  or  anything.  What  do  j^ou  say  for  him?  I 
ofifer  the  man  at  the  low  price  of  800  dollars — he  is  well 
worth  1,200  dollars.  Come,  make  an  advance,  if  you  please, 
800  dollars  said  for  the  man  (a  bid) ;  thank  you;  810  dollars, 
810  dollars,  810  dollars,  (several  bids,  820,  830,  850,  860), 
"  going  at  860,  going.  Gentlemen,  this  is  far  below  his  value. 
A  strong  man,  fit  for  any  kind  of  heavy  work.  Just  take  a 
look  at  him.  "  (Addressing  the  lot)  :  ''  Walk  down.  "  (Lot 
dismounts,  and  walks  from  one  side  of  the  shop  to  the  other. 
When  about  to  re-ascend  the  block,  a  gentleman,  who  is 
smoking  a  cigar,  examines  his  mouth  with  his  fingers.  Lot 
resumes  his  place.)  ''  Pray,  gentlemen,  be  quick  "  (contin- 
ues the  auctioneer)  ;  "  I  must  sell  him,  and  860  dollars  are^ 
only  bid  for  the  man,  860  dollars.  "  (A  fresh  run  of  bids  to 
945  dollars).  "945  dollars  once,  945  dollars  twice  "  (looking 
slowly  around  to  see  if  all  were  done).  "  945  dollars.  Going, 
going,  "  (hand  drops),  "  gone !  " 

Such  were  a  forenoon's  experiences  in  the  slave-market  of 
Richmond.  Everything  is  described  precisely  as  it  occurred. 
Barnum's  emotions  as  he  returned  to  the  hotel  were  conflict- 
ing. Savages  brought  from  Africa  were  certainly  much  ad- 
vanced in  the  scale  of  civilization  by  becoming  the  slaves  of 
a  man  like  Colonel  Leslie.  But  this  selling  of  human  be- 
ings, as  if  they  were  dumb  brutes,  this  separation  of  families, 
seemed  so  revolting  to  his  mind ;  so  at  war  with  the  essence 
of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  that  he,  who  had  se- 


144  ETOWAH. 

riously  considered  the  propriety  of  refusing  longer  to  bear 
arms  against  a  noble  people,  now  felt  that  this  miserable 
system  of  slavery  ought  to  be  extirpated  at  any  cost. 

"If  it  cannot  be  done,  then  let  them  secede  !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"There  z's  an  'irrepressible  conflict,'  and  this  country  can- 
not form  one  harmonious  government  half  slave  and  half 
free.  "  He  forgot,  in  his  unselfish  thoughts,  that  New  York 
was  once  a  slave  State.  The  Albany  (N.  Y.)  Gazette  of  1785 
contained  many  advertisements  concerning  fugitive  slaves 
and  slavery,  similar,  in  all  respects,  to  those  which  he  had 
read  in  the  Richmond  papers.  Slavery  had  ceased  there 
when  it  ceased  to  be  profitable,  just  as  it  probably  would 
have  been  abolished  eventually  in  the  South  for  like  cause 
before  the  close  of  this  centur3^ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  TWO  DEMOCRACIES. 

For  the  army  each  day  was  a  cycle  of  events  at  this  period, 
but  for  Clara  months  passed  and  her  interest  in  the  stirring 
events  was  repressed  and  she  seemed  a  changed  being.  Her 
bright  color  was  gone  now,  and  Colonel  Leslie's  cheery  greet- 
ings were  answered  by  a  forced  smile  and  the  unremitting 
attentions  of  his  devoted  daughter.  But  all  these  dutiful 
attentions  did  not  bring  back  the  bloom  to  the  cheeks  of  the 
convalescent. 

There  are  people  thus  cheerful,  thus  earnest,  thus  faithful, 
whose  wealth  of  love  cannot  fulfill  its  mission  by  pursuing 
the  narrow  path  of  duty. 

Thus  without  a  quarrel  Latane  and  Clara  suffered  a  mu- 
tual disappointment  which  nothing  but  a  satisfactory  ex- 
planation of  the  enigmatical  state  of  affairs  could  remedy. 
Her  father  had  finally  acknowledged  to  himself  the  true 
reason  why  her  buoyant  cheerfulness  had  given  way  to  a 
gentleness  which  seemed  born  of  disappointment,  and  he 
felt  extreme  resentment  to  the  author  of  it.  She  was  his 
idol,  and  her  happiness  was  the  object  of  his  life.  When  re- 
lieved of  the  cares  of  business,  it  was  her  society  he  craved, 
and  daily  eome  little  token  of  love  would  evidence  his  ab- 
sorbing affection  for  his  only  child. 
.  Time  had  rolled  fleetly  around ;  great  battles  had  been 
fought,  and  still,  late  in  the  second  year  of  the  war,  Henry 
Latane  had  not  asked  for  a  furlough. 

In  the  North  the  steady  expansion  of  population  by  means 

10 


146  ETOWAH. 

of  European  immigration  had  spread  over  the  new  West, 
and  improvement  was  rife  everywhere.  The  discovery  of  pe- 
troleum added  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  dollars  a 
year  to  the  national  wealth,  and  the  mineral  wealth  of  the 
Pacific  States  and  intermediate  country  yielded  one  hundred 
millions  more. 

But  war  was  crushing  the  South  with  anaconda  force. 
For  men  and  material  for  the  purposes  of  war,  the  North  had 
the  whole  world  to  draw  upon.  One  paper  stated:  "We 
have  now  over  twenty-six  millions  of  people  within  the 
Union  lines,  against  less  than  five  millions  (nearly  one-half 
of  whom  are  negro  slaves)  within  the  lines  of  the  Confeder- 
ates. All  things  considered,  the  actual,  positive,  available 
strength  of  the  North  against  the  South  is  more  than  twenty 
against  one."  It  was  at  this  period  that  a  ring  at  the  door- 
bell of  Mrs.  Latane's  house,  one  bright,  sunny  winter  morning, 
brought  the  warm-hearted  matron  herself  to  the.  door.  It 
was  not  the  fashionable  hour  for  calling,  and  she  knew  that 
it  must  be  some  familiar  acquaintance.  She  looked  in  every 
direction,  but  cDuld  see  no  one,  and  was  about  to  reenter  the 
hall  when  a  bright,  laughing  voice  from  the  conservatory, 
into  which  a  door  descended  from  the  veranda,  said :  "  I 
will  join  you  in  a  moment,  aunty  ;  I  wish  to  get  a  camellia  — 
and  what  beautiful  geraniums !  "  Then  the  shapely  figure 
and  fresh,  beautiful  face  of  Julia  Bearing  appeared,  holding 
in  her  taper  fingers  some  choice  geraniums  and  other  plants. 

"Why,  Julia!  always  at  your  delightful  surprises;  actu- 
ally pi  lying  hide-and-seek  with  an  old  woman  like  me.  I'm 
so  glad  to  see  you  !  "     Then  she  met  her  with  a  mother's  kiss. 

"  You  ought  to  be,  aunty,  for  I've  brought  you  something 
that  you  will  prize  very  highly,"  said  Julia. 

Mrs.  Bearing   and  Mrs.   Latan6  'had  been  bosom  friends 


ETOWAH.  147 

from  childhood  until  the  death  of  the  former,  and  Mrs.  La- 
tane  loved  and  admired  Julia  more  than  any  one  except  her 
children.  There  had  long  been  a  secret  hope  in  her  heart  that 
Henry  and  Julia  would  one  day  marry ;  when  that  occurred, 
she  thought,  her  happiness  would  be  complete. 
"  I  will  guess  what  it  is,"  she  said. 

"No,  aunty,  I  will  not  postpone  your  pleasure;  it  is  a 
letter  from  Captain  Latan^.  I  stopped  the  carriage  as  I 
passed  the  post-office  and  made  Jefi  inquire  for  your  mail." 
''  Then  you  must  share  my  pleasure,"  said  Mrs.  Latane, 
leading  the  way  to  the  parlor.  "  Sit  down,  my  child,  while 
I  read  it  to  you." 

They  had  hardly  entered  the  parlor  when  a  sunbeam  of  a 
child,  a  perfect  type  of  blonde  beauty,  with  golden  hair  and 
blue  eyes,  ran  in  and  threw  herself  in  Julia's  lap  with  the 
expression,  ''  Oh,  here  is  Cousin  Julia  I "  In  an  instant  her 
plur£.p  little  arms  were  around  Julia's  neck,  and  the  affec- 
tionate child  lavished  kisses  upon  her,  telling  her  that  she 
was  the  most  beautiful  lady  in  the  world. 
Mrs.  Latane,  opening  the  letter,  read  : 

"  Culpepper  Court  House,  Virginia,  1862. 
My  Dear  Mother  : 

For  two  weeks  we  have  been  almost  constantly  on  the 
march.  I  am  writing  under  disadvantages,  having  been 
drenched  by  the  rain,  which  is  even  now  dripping  on  the 
paper.  We  are  in  a  strip  of  woods  near  the  Rappahannock ; 
drawn  up  in  line  of  battle,  expecting  orders  to  advance 
every  minute;  shells  are  flying  over  and  around  us.  The 
cannonading  is  tremendous.  Ambulances  are  hurrying  by, 
carrying  the  wounded.  One  poor  fellow  is  being  borne  by 
on  a  stretcher ;  he  cannot  live  many  minutes  longer. 


148  ETOWAH. 

Two  Days  Later,  25th. 
I  was  interrupted,  as  I  expected.  The  left  of  our  division, 
Anderson's  brigade,  suffered  severely.  The  Washington 
Artillery,  attached  to  our  brigade,  suffered  very  heavily  in 
killed  and  wounded ;  the  enemy  abandoned  their  positions, 
but  cannonaded  us  furiously.  We  have  bivouacked  at  Jef- 
ferson, waiting  for  provisions  which  gave  out  yesterday. 
Hungry  men  are  cursing  commissaries,  yet  it  is  not  their 
fault,  for  provisions  have  to  be  hauled  a  long  distance.  We 
have  no  bread,  but  it  will  come  after  awhile. 

Thursday,  26th. 
We  left  without  provisions,  and  are  still  advancing.  Details 
are  sent  into  every  corn-field  that  we  pass  to  procure  roasting 
ears,  which  is  our  only  food.     The  men  seem  nearly  famished* 
but  are  brave  and  cheerful.     We  are  drawn  up  in  line  of 
battle  in  an  old    field    opposite    the   enemy.     Shells  were 
thrown  during  the  whole  of  yesterday  by  the  enemy ;  sev- 
eral fell  in  a  few  feet  of  me.     Poor  Charles  Vincent,  color- 
bearer  to  the  regiment,  was  killed  by  one  of  them.     Please 
call  to  see  his  mother,  and  tender  her  consolation  and  assist- 
ance.    Charlie  enlisted  in  my  company  and  was  one  of  the 
best  soldiers  in  the  regiment.     Fifteen  or  twenty  men  in  my 
company  are  bare-footed ;  their  feet  are  torn  and  sore,  but 
they  do  not  murmur.     They  are  chiefly  poor  factory  opera- 
tives, like  Charles  Vincent,  and  I  do  not  see  any  way  to 
procure  shoes  for   them.     Thousands    in  this  army  are  no 
better  ofif.     These  men  are  certainly  patriots.     I  feel  thank- 
ful for  my  own  good  health  ;  I  need  nothing.     God  bless  and 
take  care  of  you,  my  dearest  mother.     Give  my  little  pet, 
my  sweet  little  sister,  a  hundred  kisses  for  me  and  my  kind- 
est regards  to  Manson.         Your  devoted  son, 

Henry  Latane." 


ETOWAH.  149 

''  Manson"  was  Mrs.  Latane's  colored  carriage  driver.  As 
Mrs.  Latane  finished  reading  the  letter,  little  Minnie,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  exclaimed  : 

"  My  poor,  good,  dear,  dear  brother !  " 

Her  mother,  smilinoj  through  her  own  tears,  caressed  the 
little  blue-eyed  child,  and  Julia  interupting  her  said  : 

"  Say  my  brave,  noble,  heroic  brother — that's  what  I  think 
of  him !  " 

The  mother's  heart  was  too  full  to  reply.  Pride  in  his 
courage,  and  fear  for  the  safety  of  her  darling  son,  agitated 
her  with  conflicting  emotions.  Julia  soon  left  in  order  to 
make  other  calls. 

For  many  days  thereafter  Julia  was  busily  engaged  em- 
broidering a  pair  of  slippers  and  a  tobacco-pouch  for  the 
"brave,  noble,  heroic  soldier."  Her  father  looked  on  with 
gratification,  for  he  was  even  more  anxious  that  Henry 
Latane  and  Julia  should  form  an  attachment  to  culminate  in 
marriage  than  Mrs.  Latane  was.  But  Julia  had  always 
declared  that  she  and  Henry  Latane  were  too  good  friends 
ever  to  become  lovers.  Latane  was  completely  infatuated 
with  Clara  Leslie,  and,  indeed,  loved  her  the  more  on  account 
the  very  uncertainty  of  its  successful  termination.  He 
never  permitted  himself  to  doubt  Clara's  fidelity,  honesty 
and  truthfulness  a  moment,  but  no  positive  engagement  of 
marriage  existed,  and  his  self-respect  would  not  permit  him 
to  make  any  further  overtures  until  the  mysterious  silence 
of  Colonel  Leslie  and  herself  was  explained,  for  none  of  his 
letters  to  Clara  had  been  answered. 

The  next  day  the  stylish  equipage  of  Mrs.  Latane  drew  up 
in  front  of  an  humble  cottage  of  one  of  the  factory  operatives 
at  Mr.  Potts'  mill.  The  little  yard  in  front  was  ornamented 
with  a  few  rose  bushes  and  other  flowers,  while  in  the  cot- 


150  ETOWAH. 

tage  windows  flower-pots  with  fragrant  flowers  attested  that 
refined  feelings  belong  to  the  poor  as  well  as  the  rich.  Mrs- 
Vincent's  poverty  did  not  admit  of  the  gratification  of 
aesthetic  tastes  except  in  this  modest  way,  but  the  little 
porch  was  trellised  with  hanging  vines,  the  honeysuckle  and 
the  clematis,  which  united  to  make  the  air  fragrant  and  in- 
viting. The  walk  leading  from  the  gate  to  the  house  was 
swept  clean,  and  within  the  house  was  an  appearance  of 
neatness  not  usually  found  in  the  houses  of  the  poor  any- 
where. The  newly-made  quilts  upon  the  beds  were  tastefully 
arranged,  having  been  made  by  Mrs.  Vincent  and  her  chil- 
dren in  the  long  winter  nights;  and  the  sheets  and  counter- 
panes were  snowy  white  and  clean ;  with  now  and  then  a 
place  showing  that  a  careful  hand  had  sewed  the  rent  caused 
by  long  usage.  Mrs.  Vincent,  with  her  little  daughters  and 
a  liitle  boy  near  her,  was  preparing  the  humble  meal,  for 
soon  the  mid-day  bell  would  sound,  and  her  eldest  daughter 
would  hurrv  from  the  mill  to  dinner. 

Mrs.  Latane,  leading  her  little  daughter  by  the  hand,  en- 
tered the  porch  and  knocked  at  the  door.  Mrs.  Vincent,  with 
a  respectful  curtsy,  welcomed  her  kindly,  for  there  were  few 
among  the  sufiering  poor  in  her  neighborhood  who  did  not 
know  of  and   appreciate  Mrs.  Latane's  charity. 

"How  are  your  little  ones,  my  friend?"  said  she.  "My 
little  girl  has  brought  th-em  some  presents." 

"You  are  too  kind,  my  dear  madame ;  pray  be  seated ; 
I'm  sure,  m'am,  you  know  you  are  welcome." 

While  the  mothers  were  engaged  in  friendly  conversation, 
in  which  Mrs.  Latane  learned  all  about  the  needs  of  the 
sick  among  the  operatives,  little  Minnie  had  gathered  the 
children  around  her — all  sitting  on  the  floor — her  golden 
curls  mingling  with  their  flaxen  locks,   while   she  emptied 


ETOWAH.  151 

her  apron  of  its  contents.  There  were  dressed  dolls,  dolls 
that  were  undressed,  dolls  that  could  open  and  shut  their 
eyes,  and  dolls  that  could  cry.  "Yust  ike  a  itty  baby!" 
chimed  in  one  of  the  little  innocents.  The  children  were 
delighted,  and  Mrs.  Latane,  with  a  mother's  heart,  ex- 
claimed :  "  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven !  Truly 
childhood  is  the  ideal  democracy." 

The  little  creatures  would  scramble  playfully  for  the  bon- 
bons until  they  would  roll  over  the  floor,  to  Minnie's  inex- 
pressible delight,  whose  bright  curls  shook  as  her  merry  peals 
of  laughter  succeeded  these  antics.  The  little  boy  toddled 
up,  and  taking  her  curls  ia  his  chubby  little  hands,  said  in 
infantile  tones :  "I'll  take  this  for  my  present."  Minnie 
smiled,  and  putting  her  arms  around  the  baby  boy,  kissed 
him  and  said:  "Oh,  no,  Johnnie,  I've  brought  you  a  real 
pretty  present.  Boys  don't  like  dolls,  so  I've  brought  you 
something  else."  Then  she  ran  to  the  carriage,  followed  by 
the  delighted  little  mob,  and,  nearly  breathless,  exclaimed, 
accompanying  the  speech  with  the  forefinger  of  her  right- 
hand  in  an  imperious  way:  "Be  quick,  uncle  Manson;  I 
have  left  a  box  in  the  carriage."  Three  little  voices  chimed 
in:  "Be  quick,  uncle  Manson;  left  something  in  the  car- 
riage 1"; 

Manson  got  down,  and  patting  his  little  mistress'  head, 
lifted  her  in  his  arms  gently  and  placed  her  in  the  carriage, 
where  she  sought  among  the  downy  cushions  in  vain  for 
the  missing  box.  Tears  were  about  starting  in  he  r  eyes, 
and  the  little  friends  were  nearly  crazy  with  excitement, 
wondering  what  Minnie  had  brought  little  Johnnie. 

"Uncle  Manson,"  said  the  child,  "can't  you  come  in  here 
and  find  that  box  ?" 


152  ETOWAH. 

"Certainly  I  can,  Minnie;  don't  you  know  uncle  Manson 
can  always  find  anything,  or  do  anything  for  you  ?" 

Then  he  took  Minnie  in  his  arms  again,  placed  her  on 
the  ground,  and,  looking  in,  saw  the  box  under  one  of  the 
seats,  where  Minnie,  in  her  eagerness,  had  pushed  it  without 
seeing  it.  As  he  held  it  down  to  her,  she  clapped  her  hands 
and  leaped  for  joy.  Three  little  children  clapped  their 
hands  and  leaped  for  joy.  Again  the  parlor  floor  is  ani- 
mated with  happy  children. 

"Here,  Johnnie,  is  your  present,"  proudly  said  the  little 
beauty,  as  she  took  out  the  toy  soldiers  and  placed  them  in 
a  row.  There  were  soldiers  on  foot,  and  cavalry  soldiers, 
and  toy  cannon.  The  mothers  had  ceased  talking  and  were 
silently  gazing  at  the  children.  Mrs.  Latane  had  taken 
down  in  her  note-book  every  article  which  Mrs.  Vincent 
needed,  the  latter  protesting  against  receiving  them. 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  said  Mrs.  Latane,  "you  can  pay  me 
for  them  when  you  like,  but  you  must  take  them.  We 
know  not  how  soon  we  will  be  poor,  and  I  want  to  help  peo- 
ple while  I  have  the  means.  After  a  while,  maybe  your 
children  will  be  helping  mine."  Just  then  the  little  boy 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  delight;  Minnie  had  placed  the 
toy  soldiers  in  opposite  lines  for  a  battle,  she  said;  and  one 
of  them,  holding  a  flag  above  his  head,  as  if  in  the  act  of 
waving  it,  she  had  placed  in  front  of  the  centre  of  the  line 
of  battle. 

Charles  Vincent  was  color-bearer  in  Henry  Latane's  com- 
pany, which  was  the  color  company  of  the  regiment,  a 
position  given  to  Charles  for  gallant  conduct.  He  was  pro- 
moted to  be  lieutenant  the  day  he  was  fatally  wounded. 
The  honor  was  conferred  at  the  special  request  of  Captain 
Latane,  and  it  indicated  that,  though  social  advantages  and 


ETOWAH.  153 

wealth  were  against  the  modest  and  humble  factory  opera- 
tive, yet  he  was  the  bravest  soldier  in  the  regiment.  This 
merited  promotion  as  color-sergeant  over  many  wealthy 
young  men  created  some  envy  at  first,  but  the  brave  are 
ever  magnanimous,  and  the  modest,  but  manly  bearing  of 
the  young  man  soon  made  him  the  most  popular  soldier  in 
the  command.  Mrs.  Vincent,  therefore,  had  learned  to 
love  Henry  Latand,  whom  she  had  never  seen,  next  to  her 
son  Charles. 

''Mama,"  said  little  Johnnie,  "here  is  brother  Charles 
marching  ahead  of  all  of  them!"  With  a  look  of  grateful 
pride,  Mrs.  Vincent  said  to  her  friend :  "When  the  war  is 
over  my  Charles  will  not  forget  to  whom  he  owes  his  pro- 
motion, and  will  do  anything  on  earth  for  your  children." 
Before  she  had  finished  the  sentence  Mrs.  Latane,  overcome 
at  last,  was  sobbing.  Then  Mrs.  Vincent  sank,  pale  and 
trembling,  in  her  chair,  and  gasped,  "What  is  it?"  Her 
mother's  heart  told  her  the  truth  too  well.  Mrs.  Latan^ 
embraced  her  and  caressed  her  as  if  she  was  not  only  her 
equal,  but  her  sister. 

There  is  another  democracy  :  the  democracy  of  grief!  The 
eldest  daughter,  Agnes,  entered  the  room  at  the  moment 
when  Mrs.  Latane  gently  conveyed  to  her  mother's  stricken 
heart  the  agonizing  intelligence.  Agnes  interpreted  the 
scene  at  a  glance  and,  aided  by  Mrs.  Latane,  lifted  her 
mother  and  placed  her  on  the  bed.  Mrs.  Vincent  did  not 
utter  a  sound,  but  her  lips  moved  convulsively,  as  if  she 
would  speak,  if  speaking  would  not  break  her  heart.  She 
did  not  weep;  such  grief  as  this  freezes  the  fount  of  tears! 
She  did  not  close  her  eyes;  such  grief  petrifies  the  glance  of 
misery!  The  open  eyes  saw  nn  one;  the  ears,  listening  for 
the  silent  voice  of  the  dead,  heard  no  one !     The  brain  ot 


154  ETOWAH. 

that  poor  mother  was  busy ;  thought  was  weaving  its  fatal 
meshes  there,  and  this  thought  was  of  no  one  save  Charles 
Vincent.  Day  after  day,  week  after  week,  almost  with- 
out nourishment,  she  remained  in  this  condition.  Finally 
her  eyes  assumed  the  uncertain  fixity  of  look  which  leads 
to  madness.  They  seemed  to  penetrate  space  and  see  into 
the  far  beyond.  Nothing  saved  her  from  lunacy  but  the 
prattling  voices  of  those  little  helpless  children.  They  now 
had  no  protector,  no  support,  save  Agnes  and  her  younger 
sister.  Weeks  glided  into  months,  and  yet  that  vacant  stare 
into  vacancy  never  wholly  left  her.  Agnes  continued  to 
nurse  her  mother,  and,  but  for  the  bountiful  supplies  brought 
weekly  to  the  door  in  Mr^.  Latane's  wagon,  the  family 
would  have  starved. 

"It  will  never  do  to  help  these  people,"  said  Mr.  Potts,  the 
rich  manufacturer.  "The  more  you  give,  the  more  they 
want.  Give  them  an  inch,  and  they'll  take  an  ell.  Teach  them 
to  take  care  of  themselves  is  my  motto ;  that's  the  only  true 
charity.  I've  paid  the  girl  all  I  agreed  to  pay  her.  Honesty 
is  my  motto — I  believe  in  the  omnipotence  of  honesty! 
These  people  expect  me  to  buy  them  Brussels  carpets  and 
feed  them  on  cake  and  champagne !  I  am  against  giving 
to  the  poor;  against  it  on  principle!  It  spoils  them  for 
laborers ;  they  begin  to  hold  their  heads  too  high ;  none  of 
that  for  me !     I'm  a  self-made  man  !" 

Mr.  Potts  was  an  eminently  "respectable"  man.  His  shirt- 
collar  was  always  stifi  and  straight  and  upright.  Mr.  Potts 
had  a  "high  place  in  the  synagogue,"  and  wore  a  cut-away 
coat.  His  coat  tails  were  also  eminently  respectable.  Mr. 
Potts  was  a  deacon ;  and  when  other  people  stood  up  to  pray^ 
he  knelt  down,  first  having  swept  away  any  dirt  which 
might  be  on  the  floor,  with  his  handkerchief,  to  protect  his 


ETOWAH.  155 

infallible  knees.  When  Mr.  Potts  knelt  upon  one  knee,  the 
other  leg  served  as  a  support  to  his  elbow,  for  his  infallible 
right-hand  always  supported  his  infallible  chin.  Piety  was 
so  conspicuous  in  Mr.  Potts'  bearing  that  he  might  have 
been  mistaken  for  a  minister.  Meanwhile,  one  of  the  opera- 
tives was  heard  to  exclaim,  after  Mr.  Potts  had  delivered  one 
of  his  characteristic  homilies,  ending  with  "I  am  a  self-made 
man  !"  ^'God-a-mighty  must  feel  proud  that  he  did  not  have 
a  hand  in  the  making  of  old  Potts !" 

One  day  the  physician,  employed  by  Mrs.  Latan  ,  called 
at  Chestatee  and  informed  her  that  the  invalid  must  be 
removed. 

"Why  is  it  necessary,  doctor?"  she  asked. 

"Malaria,"  he  replied.  "Her  cottage  is  very  near  the  river, 
and  if  she  were  in  her  normal  condition,  malaria  might  not 
afiect  her  seriously.  But  malaria  affects  not  only  the  cells 
of  the  cerebral  centres,  the  normal  phosphorescence  of  which 
gives  origin  to  the  mind,  but  also  every  nerve-cell  and 
molecule.  It  also  affects  the  action  of  the  chylopoetic  vis- 
cera, and  thus  produces  indigestion  and  destroys  the  manu- 
facture of  the  great  pabulum  of  life — the  blood."  While  Dr. 
B's  fondness  for  using  medical  terms  sometimes  amused  Mrs. 
Latan§,  she  had  the  utmost  respect  for  his  opinions,  as  he 
was  at  the  head  of  his  profession,  and  had  for  many  years 
been  the  family  physician. 

Following  the  advice  of  the  doctor,  Mrs.  Latane  had  the 
Vincent  family  conveyed  to  one  of  her  farms,  called  "Beall- 
wood,"  where  the  aroma  from  the  pine  forest  which 
surrounded  the  dwelling  had  been  found  singularly  effica- 
cious in  lung  diseases  and  malarial  complaints. 

But  all  the  efforts  to  restore  Mrs.  Vincent  to  health  were  in 
vain.     The  ball  that  struck  Charles  Vincent's  heart  pierced 


156  ETOWAH. 

hers  also.  She  gradually  grew  weaker,  mentall}^  and  physi- 
cally, until  at  last  she  was  a  hopeless  wreck,  cast  upon  the 
boundless  sea  of  grief  without  rudder,  compass  or  the  anchor 
ot  hope!  She  was  never  violent,  always  quiet;  always 
shrinking  from  friends,  dead  to  the  world  because  her  world 
was  dead !  She  realized  nothing  that  was  done  for  her.  She 
neither  complained  nor  expressed  gratitude.  Like  the  proud 
Empress  Carlotta,  when  her  noble  husband,  Maximilian,  was 
slain,  this  humble  woman,  whose  strong  mind  and  resolute 
courage  had  supported  that  helpless  family,  sank  into  melan- 
cholia, and  repulsed  from  her  presence  those  nearest  and 
dearest  to  her.  No  one  but  her  daughter,  Agnes,  could  give 
her  food  and  no  one  else  had  any  influence  with  her. 

One  day  Mrs.  Latane  sat  at  the  bedside  of  the  invalid,  re- 
lieving  Agnes,  who  was  overcome  by  fatigue,  her  mother 
having  been  much  worse  the  previous  night.  Little  Minnie 
was  carefully  fanning  the  weak,  emaciated  woman,  who  was 
sleeping  far  more  tranquilly  than  she  had  slept  for  weeks. 
Suddenly  the  sleeper  awoke,  and,  fixing  on  Mrs.  Latane  her 
unnaturally  large  eyes  that  now  beamed  with  the  old  intelli- 
gent look,  she  said  :  "My  friend — my  dear,  good,  kind  friend ! 
I  am  going  soon.  I've  been  with  my  boy,  Charles,  in 
Heaven  ! — I  will  meet  your  husband  there — have  you  any 
message  for  him?  Bring  my  darling  children  to  me."  Then 
the  dying  mother,  released  at  last,  talked  rationally  and  tran- 
quilly to  them ;  told  them  of  the  great  struggle  which  she 
had  had  in  order  to  be  saved,  and.  admonishing  them  con-* 
cerning  the  illimitable  future,  consigned  them  to  Agnes'  care. 

The  poor  factory  woman  had  joined  her  son  at  last ! 

Agnes  returned  to  the  lonely  cottage,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  La- 
tane's  protest,  and  to  work  in  the  mill  again.  The  great 
river  rushed  with  mighty  force  down  the  magnificent  falls. 


ETOWAH'.  157 

The  great  wheels  of  the  factory  moved  the  massive  machin- 
ery, and  hundreds  toiled  night  and  day  in  the  fetid  atmos- 
phere of  the  mighty  mill .  Men  and  women  came  and  went, 
weeks  glided  into  months,  and  still  the  ceaseless  hum  of  loom 
and  spindle  sounded  the  Miserere  in  her  ears!  The  poor 
girl  worked  on,  shadowed  by  misery,  producing  beautiful 
fabrics  by  day,  teaching  the  children  by  night,  and  asking 
herself : 

''Is  life  worth  having  ?" 

The  insatiable  maw  of  commerce  demands  its  victims 
with  an  iron  heartlessness,  and  twelve  hours  a  day  must  be 
given  to  labor  by  women  and  children  of  tender  ages  within 
the  huge  manufactories,  which  run  day  and  night.  And 
this  is  done  that  the  rich  may  become  fabulously  rich  and 
the  poor  reduced  to  that  point,  calculated  with  a  nicety 
which  does  honor  to  mathematical  physiology,  at  which  life 
can  be  sustained.  It  matters  not  how  many  lives  are  ground 
out  by  the  daily  routine  of  monotonous  toil,  the  cloth  must 
be  woven,  and  enough  profit  made  to  pay  the  interest  on 
"watered  stocks"  that  sharpers  may  grow  rich,  even  though 
little  children  are  kept  at  work  in  the  mill.  In  a  land  which 
boasts  of  being  the  asylum  for  the  oppressed  of  all  nations,  la- 
bor has  little  hope  of  rising  in  the  world  when  once  it  enters 
the  portals  of  the  factory  or  mine.  What  matters  it  that  "Cor- 
porations have  no  souls?"  Does  not  a  new-comer  take  the 
place  of  him  or  her  who  yields  to  the  unequal  fight,  and 
dies  in  the  fierce  battle  of  poverty,  for  the  lack  of  air,  sun- 
shine and  wholesome  food?  Is  not  life  at  best  a  battle, 
where  humanity  is  but  an  improved  animal  rioting  in  a 
refinement  of  cruelty  undreamed  of  by  the  beasts?  Does 
not  humanity  repeat  the  natural  law,  the  strong  oppress  the 
weak,  the  big  fish    eat  the  little  fish  ?     Do  not  politicians 


158  ETOWAH. 

boldly  proclaim  that  "  might  makes  right?  "  Thus  thought 
the  operatives,  at  least,  for  Mr.  Potts  was  noted  as  being  the 
hardest  task-master  and  the  most  unapproachable  employer 
in  all  the  State.  And  his  son,  Wellington  Napoleon,  was  like 
unto  him. 

Whatever  were  the  evils  of  slavery,  let  us  not  forget  what 
a  great  Belgian  economist,  speaking  of  countries  where 
slavery  is  unknown,  has  said :  "  Except  as  a  tradition, 
Masters  and  men  are  in  a  state  of  constant  warfare,  having 
their  battles,  their  victories,  and  their  defeats.  It  is  a  dark 
and  bitter  civil  war,  wherein  he  wins  who  holds  out  longest 
without  earning  anything;  a  struggle  far  more  cruel  and 
more  keen  than  that  decided  by  bullets  or  a  barricade ;  one 
where  all  the  furniture  is  pawned  or  sold ;  where  the  savings 
of  better  times  are  gradually  devoured,  and  where  at  last 
famine  and  misery  besiege  the  home  and  oblige  the  wife  and 
little  ones  to  cry  for  mercy." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

IN    CONFEDERATE    DAYS. 

Little  accidents  frequently  usher  in  important  incidents. 
It  is  the  accident  which  often  determines  the  fate  of  a  battle ; 
and  an  accident  frequently  decides  that  most  important  in- 
cident in  one's  life,  courtship.  It  was  a  trivial  accident 
which  introduced  Julia  Dei-ring  to  Major  George  Blount, 
but,  trivial  as  it  was,  it  is  a  necessary  link  in  the  chain  of 
of  events  which  form  this  life-story. 

As  Julia  Bearing  was  driving  rapidly  near  Chestatee,  on 
her  return  from  a  visit  to  one  of  her  friends,  her  dog,  a  small 
Italian  orrayhound,  leaped  suddenly  out  of  the  pony-phaeton 
and,  striking  the  lines,  fell  just  before  the  wheels  which  ran 
over  the  little  animal.  The  mare  stopped  instantly  at  her 
command,  which  was  spoken  in  a  tone  that  seemed  to  com- 
municate sympathy  to  the  animal  for  the  little  whimpering 
brute.  She  quickly  descended  and  took  the  little  dog  in  her 
arms  as  gently  as  if  it  had  been  an  infant,  and  its  low  whim- 
pers ceased  as  she  held  it  in  her  arms,  though  its  leg  was 
broken.  Resuming  her  seat,  with  the  dog  in  her  lap,  she 
was  about  to  drive  off,  when  a  strong  voice  said : 

"  Most  beautifully  done.  Miss  Julia!  I  would  have  aided 
you  had  it  been  in  my  power,  but  walking  on  crutches  is 
slow  locomotion." 

"  Why,  Captain  Latan^!  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you;  when 
did  3'^ou  return  home?  I  have  one  vacant  seat;  let  me  drive 
you  home.  On  crutches,  did  you  say?  I  must  have  a  pair 
made  for  Bijou."     As  she  said  this  she  looked  with  real  sym- 


160  ETOWAH. 

pathy  at  the  soldier  and  added  :  '^  I  hope  your  limb  is  not 
fractured." 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  replied,  "but  that  is  a  small  matter;  it 
might  have  been  a  great  deal  worse.  Let  me  introduce  my 
friend,  Major  Blount :  Miss  Dearing,  Major  Blount."  Julia 
had  not  seen  Blount  at  first,  the  turn  in  the  road  and  the 
dense  vegetation  having  hidden  him  from  view,  but  now 
she  saw  a  noble  specimen  of  young  manhood — a  soldier  and 
a  gentleman.  Blount  threw  open  the  great  gate  and  the 
young  lady  drove  in,  for  the  dog,  she  thought,  demanded 
immediate  attention.  She  soon  reached  the  house  and  had 
entered  it,  bearing  her  dog  with  her,  before  the  young  gen- 
tlemen arrived. 

"  By  Jove !  isn't  she  handsome  ?  "  said  Blount. 

"Yes,"  replied  Latane,  and  she  is  as  clever  as  she  is  hand- 
some. 

"She  is  the  handsomest  girl  I  ever  saw,"  said  Blount, 
"and  I  mean  to  cultivate  her." 

"In  time  of  peace  prepare  for  war,  then,"  retorted  Latane, 
who  seemed  fully  to  appreciate  her  merits  himself. 

Her  buoyant  health  gave  a  vigor  to  her  movements  which 
was  apparent  to  the  least  observant.  The  elasticity  of  her 
step  as  she  walked  and  her  natural  vivacity  seemed  the  acme 
of  the  joyous  sense  of  living.  The  very  idea  of  existing 
seemed  a  pleasure  to  her. 

No  care  oppressed  her,  and  her  heart  seemed  a  well-spring 
of  perennial  gayety.  The  only  child  of  a  wealthy  and  emi- 
nent man,  her  every  whim  had  been  gratified  during  her 
life.  Her  self-possessed  manner  made  her  appear  older  than 
Clara  Leslie,  and  she  took  the  lead  in  all  diversions.  Clara's 
admirers  were  constant;  Julia's  more  numerous,  i<ut  fickle, 
as  she  wanted  them  to  be. 


ETOWAH.  161 

''Men's  hearts  were  made  to  be  broken  and  then  mended 
again,"  she  was  heard  to  say;  yet  she  was  not  selfish,  and 
she  despised  downright  deception.  She  would  have  scorned 
to  deceive  for  any  purpose  except  to  gratify  her  conscious 
power  and  this,  she  flattered  herself,  was  a  harmless  amuse- 
ment. She  was  brilliant,  caustic  when  she  chose  to  be  sar- 
castic, witty  and  beautiful,  the  essentials  for  the  "make  up" 
of  a  successful  flirt.  To  the  poor  she  was  the  embodiment  of 
charity.  Without  having  been  strictl}^  "in  society,"  she  had 
been  courted  a  dozen  times,  and  each  of  her  lovers,  except 
Bruton  Stewart,  though  jilted,  hung  around  her  with  the 
same  blind  infatuation  whenever  she  appeared  in  society. 
She  neither  rejected  nor  accepted  her  suitors,  but  always  re- 
ferred them  to  her  father,  whom  none  of  them  dared  to 
approach  until  she  had  given  an  outward  visible  sign  respon- 
sive to  their  own  declarations,  which  she  was  careful  not  to 
do.  The  girl  seemed  utterly  to  lack  sentiment.  Success  did 
not  spoil  her,  for  the  idea  of  not  succeding  had  never  enter- 
ed her  head.  Insensible  to  jealousy,  she  could  not  compre- 
hend how  it  could  hurt  others.  Excepting  this  one  foible, 
springing  from  love  of  admiration,  Julia's  heart  was  a  kind 
one,  ever  ready  to  mi  nister  to  the  sick  and  needy.  She  seemed 
insensible  to  fatigue  or  ennui.  The  common  people  and  the 
negroes  all  liked  and  adm-ired  her.  Without  being  mascu- 
line, she  was  an  excellent  "shot,"  and  frequently  went  gun- 
ning with  Henry  Latane  when  he  was  at  home.  She  was 
also  a  superb  horsewoman,  and  could  handle  the  "ribbons" 
famously  well  in  driving. 

And  now  Latane  thought  of  the  bitter  cold  day  when  he 
had  received  the  slippers  made  by  the  hands  of  Julia  Bear- 
ing, for  of  such  were  the  presents  to  soldiers  made  in  the  days 
11 


162  ETOWAH. 

when  our  ports  were  blockaded  and  luxuries  were  reduced 
to  necessities. 

The  snow  was  thick  on  the  ground  in  the  valley  of  Vir- 
ginia, and  shoes  were  scarce  and  hard  to  obtain,  "for  love  or 
money."  His  own  shoes  were  worn  and  afforded  poor  pro- 
tection to  hi-s  almost  frozen  feet. 

Each  day  was  being  ushered  in  by  a  battle  or  a  skirmish, 
and  he  commanded  the  picket  line.  One  by  one  his  men 
were  falling,  and  his  company,  which  had  numbered  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five,  had  dwindled  to  lorty-five  men. 
To  each  of  these  soldiers  he  had  endeared  himself  by  acts  of 
kindness  when  self-abnegation  meant  pi.  ysjcial  sufferino:.  It 
was  at  this  time  that  the  slippers  and  tobacco  pouch  made  by 
Julia  had  been  received,  his  initials  being  worked  in  by  her 
hands.  With  grateful  appreciation  Latane  wrote,  thanking 
her  for  the  unexpected  kindness,  and  thus  began  a  corres- 
pondence in  which  she  wrote  just  as  she  would  have  talked 
had  he  been  present,  an  epistolary  art  as  rare  as  it  is  attrac- 
tive. 

To  the  letter  referred  to  she  replied  as  follows,  after  having 
briefly  alluded  to  the  comfort  which  she  hoped  the  slippers 
might  afford  to  the   absent  soldier : 

"I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  well  again.  I  feel  very  proud 
of  my  gallant  cousin.  Has  he  forgotten  me?  I  saw  your 
uncle  John  yesterday;  he  is  seventy-six  years  old,  and  yet 
he  says  he  will  give  his  three  sons  to  the  army,  and,  if  neces- 
sarj^,  will  lead  them  himself.  This,  from  the  wealthiest 
gentleman  in  town,  shows  the  spirit  that  is  destined  to  win 
our  independence. 

"  I  have  been  for  the  last  week  in  such  a  state  of  mind — 
sad  and  glad,  angry  and  proud.  We  went  to  the  depot  yes- 
terda}'  to  see  the  Guards  off.     All  the  town  was  there      The 


ETOWAH.  '  163 

soldiers  were  addressed  by  Dr.  Wiggins.  Then  Mr.  Wynnton 
gave  them  a  benediction,  and  Mr.  DeVoe,  the  chaplain,  re- 
sponded. Henry,  I  do  think  that  such  men,  going  as  they 
did,  blessed  by  ministers,  prayed  for,  and  so  loved  as  they 
are,  must  conquer.  They  are  our  first,  best  and  most  cultured 
young  men.  Oh !  if  I  was  only  a  man  I  wouldn't  stay 
here  a  minute  !  I  wish  I  was.  To  think  that  our  nearest 
and  dearest  ^o  to  sacrifice  themselves  and  be  targets  for 
mercenaries!  Oh!  it  makes  me  so  angry!  Every  one  says 
the  Guards  are,  all-in-all,  the  best  company  that  has  ever 
been  raised  in  the  State.  Four  of  your  cousins  went.  A 
gentleman  who  went  with  them  to  Macon  says  that  there 
was  not  a  laugh  or  word  that  would  not  be  proper  in  a  par- 
lor. Thev  nearlv  all  cried  :  I  honor  them  for  it ;  a  man 
who  cries  when  he  leaves  his  mother  and  sisters  to  go  to  war 
won't  run  when  he  sees  the  enemy. 

"  The  black  people,  particularly  Shack  Shorter,  wept  co- 
piously when  their  young  masters  went  to  the  war.  Hennie 
Wakefield,  stranger  as  she  is,  cried.  Old  men  cried.  My 
tears  flow  far  from  the  surface  else  I  would  have  cried,  too. 
Mr.  Hart  resigned  ;  said  he  had  no  idea  when  he  joined  the 
company  that  there  would  be  a  fight,  and  that  he  had  to 
stay  and  attend  to  the  sewing  machines !  I  don't  believe 
any  woman  even  would  show  such  cowardice.  He  ought  to 
be  drummed  out  of  town  !  He  missed  his  vocation  in  being 
a  man.     Good-bye,  dear  cousin. 

"Your  affectionate,  belligerent  cousin, 

"Julia  Dearing." 

The  battles  of  the  Chickahominy,  culminating  in  the 
battle  of  Malvern  Hill,  had  raised  the  siege  of  Richmond. 


164  ETOWAH. 

Henry  Latane  had  been  severely  wounded  in  the  leg  at  the 
battle  of  "Seven  Pines." 

In  four  hours  General  Longstreet's  corps  had  lost  three 
thousand  men,  killed  and  wounded ;  but  Richmond  had  been 
saved,  and  the  army  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men 
had  been  pushed  from  their  strongholds  and  fortifications 
and  put  to  flight,  leaving  an  immense  spoil  in  store«,  pro- 
visions and  artillery.  For  the  first  time,  Captain  Latane  re- 
turned home  on  furlough,  accompanied  by  his  most  intimate 
friend,  Major  George  Blount,  of  the  Second  Regulars.  This 
regiment  was  stationed  on  the  Atlantic  coast  and  Major 
Blount,  becoming  tired  of  the  life  of  inaction,  while  so  many 
of  his  friends  were  gaining  distinction,  had  applied  for  a 
transfer  that  he  might  be  more  actively  engaged.  Pending 
the  result  of  this  application,  he  had  accepted  Latane's  invi- 
tation to  visit  him  at  Chestatee. 

Just  before  the  accident  happened  which  caused  the  in- 
troduction to  Julia  Dearing,  Latane  was  pointing  out  to 
Blount  the  interesting  features  of  the  landscape,  or  "water- 
scape," as  Julia  persisted  in  calling  it. 

They  stood  near  the  bluff" overlooking  the  picturesque  spot 
called  "Lover's  Leap." 

The  river,  visible  for  miles  from  this  point,  presented  a 
succession  of  rapids  leaping  wildly  over  dark  jutting  rocks 
and  casting  its  white  foam  on  high.  Far  to  the  north  it 
widened,  then  narrowed  as  it  made  its  rapid  way  on  either 
side  of  Magnolia  Island,  where  those  grand  Southern  trees 
form  a  forest  all  their  own.  Their  mammoth  size,  deep 
coloring  'and  great  white  flowers  would  do  justice  to  the 
most  luxuriant  forests  in  the  tropics. 

To  Blount  Julia's  appearance  was  a  revelation.     He  whose 


ETOWAH.  165 

boast  had  been  that  he  had  neverfallen  in  love,  and  who  had 
philosophized  himself  into  the  belief  that  St.  Paul's  idea  of 
marriage  was  the  wisest  opinion  expressed  in  the  Bible  con- 
cerning human  institutions,  saw  all  his  previous  opinions 
swept  away  at  one  fell  swoop.  It  was  clearly  a  ca?e  of  love 
at  first  sight.  He  had  often  told  Latane  that  his  only  weak- 
ness, if  not  his  only  fault,  was  his  love  for  Clara  Leslie;  now 
he  was  about  to  '"'out-Herod  Herod !"  Julia  was  entirely  en- 
grossed in  the  sufferings  of  her  little  pet.  She  was  making 
bandages  and  poultices  for  Bijou,  and,  summoning  Blount  to 
her  assistance,  she  had  soon  placed  the  broken  leg  in  splints 
as  skillfully  as  a  surgeon  could  have  done  it. 

•'Where did  you  learn  the  healing  art,  Miss  Bearing?"  ask- 
ed Blount. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  ;  at  the  soldiers'  hospital,  I  reckon.  You 
know  the  girls  all  belong  to  the  Soldiers'  Aid  Society  ?"  she 
replied. 

"Yes,  God  bless  them !  They  have  these  societies  in  every 
town  and  village,"  he  said. 

"Auntie,"  said  Julia,  "I  must  tell  you  something  funny;  it 
is  about  papa.  I  believe  he  knows  as  much  as  Solomon  did, 
but  he  won't  use  good  English ;  he  will  persist  in  calling 
Florida,  Tlurriday,'  etc.  I  told  him  the  other  day  that  the 
girls  at  the  last  meeting  of  the  Soldiers'  Aid  Society  resolved 
to  dress  in  calico  hereafter  in  order  to  show  our  patriotism  by 
dressing  in  cloth  made  at  home.  Well,  I  have  to  abandon 
my  pet  scheme,  for  papa  only  replied  when  I  asked  his  per- 
mission, 'My  daughter,  you  have  ^coats'  enough.'  Just 
think  of  how  insignificant  and  useless  women  are  !  Oh  !  I 
wish  I  was  a  man  !" 
"I  don't,"  said  Blount;  "it  would  spoil  a' lovely  woman. 


166  ETOWAH. 

You  don't  mean  to  say,  though,  that  you've  relieved  soldiers 
as  you  did  your  dog,  do  you  ?" 

''Oh!  no,  indeed!  I  have  made  bandages,  socks,  slippers, 
etc.,  for  them,  and  have  helped  to  nurse  a  few  who  were  sent 
to  our  home  at  my  father's  invitation.  I  never  had  a  brother 
to  get  wounded  or  I  should  do  it." 

''I  believe  it,"  said  Blount,  earnestly. 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Blount?"  said  Latane,  But  that 
gentleman  preserved  a  discreet  silence. 

"Major  Blount,  do— please  tell  me  what  Captain  Latane 
told  you  about  me?" 

"That  would  exhaust  the  whole  evening,"  answered 
Blount,  politely  avoiding  an  answer. 

"Upon  .  my  word,  ycu  are  provokingly  contrary,  and  I 
shall  have  to  declare  war  a  VoutranceV^  she  answered. 

"He  said  an  untruth  about  you,"  said  Blount ;  "he  accused 
you  of  being  an  'atrocious  flirt.'  " 

"Then,"  she  said  to  Latane,  "you  don't  know  what  you  are 
talking  about.  But  I  am  determined  to  avoid  those  peram- 
bulatory  worries,  called  husbands,  as  long  as  possible." 

"Herein,  I  see,  thou  lovest  me  not  with  the  full  weight 
that  I  love  thee ;  therefore,  my  sweet  Rose,  my  dear  Rose,  be 
merry,"  answered  Latane. 

"Dear  Harry,  I  show  more  mirth  than  I  am  mistress  of, 
and  would  you  yet  I  were  merrier?  Unless  you  could  teach 
me  to  forget  you  must  not  teach  me  how  to  learn  any  ex- 
traordinary pleasure,"  replied  Julia,  transposing  a  sentence 
in  "As  You  Like  it,"  from  which  he  had  quoted  to  suit  the 
occasion. 

Then,  rising,  she  extended  her  hand  to  Blount,  saying : 
*'You  must  not  give  attention  to  such   slanderous  charges 


ETOWAH.  167 

M.ijor.     I  trust  that  we  will  become  sufficiently  acquainted 
to  cause  you  to  repel  any  such  insinuations  in  future." 

Pardon  the  liberty,  Miss  Julia,"  said  Latane,  "but  I  have 
ordered  your  horse  to  be  taken  on  to  the  stable.  A  storm  is 
coming  up.  Do  you  see  that  mass  of  clouds  over  there? 
They  are  the  blackest  I  ever  saw,  and  they  seem  to  reach 
the  earth." 

"Are  you  afraid  of  storms?"  said  Blount,  as  if  he  were  then 
and  there  determined  to  analyze  her  character. 

"Afraid  of  storms?  Why,  no,  certainly  not ;  I've  been  in 
storms  frequently." 

''I  Thank  Heaven  that  you  will  escape  this  one ;  if  it  is  a 
cyclone  it  will  be  here  presently  and  will  continue  its  terri- 
ble destruction  a  hundred  miles  distant  in  an  hour,"  said 
Latane. 

•'Do  cyclones  travel  so  fast  ?" 

"Yes,  and  in  a  straight  line,  too ;  they  go  two  miles  a  minute 
frequently  and  spare  nothing  that  is  in  their  path." 

Just  then  a  clap  of  thunder,  succeeded  by  rolling  intona- 
tions across  the  heavens,  silenced  them.  With  wonderful 
rapidity  the  clouds  massed  themselves  together,  and  the 
storm  was  ushered  in  by  a  low,  dull,  continuous  roar  that 
increased  rapidly  to  the  intensity  of  a  tempest.  Now  a  flash 
of  lightning  revealed  the  swaying  pines  that,  after  having 
reveled  in  their  lofty  strength  a  century  or  more,  yielded  to 
the  force  of  the  gale  as  the  black,  moving  clouds  scudded 
with  the  wind  close  to  the  earth. 

In  ten  minutes  the  cyclone  had  passed ;  the  tall  century 
pines  lay  upon  the  earth,  like  prone  Titans,  near  forest  oaks 
which  had  been  twisted  up  by  the  roots  and  scattered  along 
the  track  of  the  storm.     The  forest,  for  a  width  of  a  hundred 


168  ETOWAH. 

yards,  was  cut  down  as  clean  as  grain  is  left  in  swath  by  the 
reaper. 

The  wind  had  sown  the  whirlwind!  The  great  dwelling 
itself  shook  like  a  vessel  at  sea  in  a  storm,  or  as  if  an  earth- 
quake had  rocked  it  to  and  fro.  The  window  blinds  were 
wrenched  off  suddenly  and  were  borne  away  as  if  they  were 
twigs,  and  the  whirling  monarchs  of  the  forest  went  down 
like  sticks  drawn  in  the  vortex  of  the  whirlwind.  The}^ 
could  see  from  the  house  the  debris  of  wrecked  buildings; 
immense  sills  of  houses,  with  planks  and  weather-boards, 
mingled  with  beds  and  mattresses,  had  been  borne  by  like 
feathers  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  or  as  if  clutched  in  the 
strong,  merciless  hand  of  the  storm. 

She  stood  erect,  her  eyes  brilliant  with  excitement,  with- 
out seeming  to  appreciate  the  danger  until  it  was  over,  for 
the  cyclone  had  passed  not  one  hundred  yards  from  where 
they  stood.  When  it  was  over,  and  the  big  drops  were  fol- 
lowed by  sheets  of  rain,  while  peals  of  thunder  reverberated 
across  the  heavens,  she  said  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm, 
"How  grand  it  was!" 

"Yes,"  said  Latane,  "I  can  think  of  nothing  more  so,  un- 
less it  is  a  battle." 

She  did  not  answer,  but  the  nervous  clutch  upon  his  arm 
and  the  mute  appeal  in  her  earnest  eyes  bade  him  sa}^  no 
more  of  battles,  for  in  the  last  great  battle  many  of  her 
friends  had  fallen,  and  long  afterward  that  earnest,  interest- 
ed look  cheered  the  absent  soldier  in  the  Old  Dominion. 

What  hostess  would  not  be  as  pleased  as  Mrs.  Latane  was, 
when  the  young  gentlemen  pronounced  the  coflfee  (made  of 
okra,  for  the  ports  were  blockaded,  and  genuine  coSee  was 
not  to  be  bought)  the  best  that  they  had  had  for  months? 


ETOWAH.  169 

Neither  did  they  learn  that  the  tea  which  they  drank  the 
next  morning  for  breakfast  was  made  from  the  root  of  the 
sassafras  tree. 

They   were  enjoying  the   best  comforts  the  land  could 
afford,   and  the  society  of  a  girl  who  would  have  made  a 
social  sensation   anywhere,  and  they  looked  at  life  as  if  it 
was  "ait  couUur  de  ro.^e,^^  withe  ut  a  trial  or  a  sorrow. 

In  an  hour  the  storm  had  ceased.     Amid  bright  sallies  of 
wit  and  happy  repartee  the  evening  passed  delightfully;  and 
it  was  quite  evident  that  Blount  had  made  an  agreeable  im- 
pression also. 

"Julia,"  said  Mrs.  Latane,  "have  you  seen  Clara  Leslie's 
new  f-ilk  dress?  I  am  told  she  received  from  her  cousin, 
now  in  Paris,  several  very  handsome  dresses  by  the  blockade 
runner,  'The  Clara,'  which  managed  to  get  into  Brunswick 
last  week      The  vessel  was  named  for  her." 

"No,  auntie,  but  I  am  going  to  see  her  to-morrow — lam 
crazy  to  see  those  dresses." 

"  It  strikes  me,"  said  Blount,  ''  that  no  Paris  modiste — not 
even  the  great  Worth — can  excel  the  fit  and  texture  of  the 
lovely  dress  you  have  on  now." 

"  Oh,  thank  you.  Major;  I  have  been  hinting  to  auntie  all 
the  evening  to  compliment  me,  for  I  made  this  dress  myself" 

"  Indeed  !  Julia,  it  is  very  handsome.  I  asked  you  about 
Miss  Leslie's  dresses  because  I  thought  the  one  you  are  wear- 
ing must  be  imported.  I  saw  that  it  was  neither  just  the 
thing  for  walking,  nor  driving,  nor  indoors —  and — " 

"  Nevertheless,  she  is  exquisitely,  charmingly  dressed," 
said  Blount. 

"Thank  you  again,  Major;  I  see  that  I  have  one  appre- 
ciative friend  at  least." 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Blount,"  said  Latane, 


170  ETOWAH. 

"Well,  now,  did  you  ever!"  exclaimed  Julia. 

"I  never  did,"  said  Blount,  interrupting  again,  and  he 
said  this  so  solemnly  that  it  elicited  general  laughter. 

"I  don't  think  any  one  but  Julia  can  make  a  dress  like 
that  without  imported  materials,"  said  Mrs.  Litane;  "  so  it 
is  not  to  your  discredit.  Major,  that  you  confess  that  you 

'  never  did.' " 

Blount  laughed  also  then  and  asked  mischievously,    "How 

did  you  do  it?" 

''Very  easily— no,  not  easily  either ;  I  would  not  do  it  again 
for  myself,  but  I  will  mnke  one  for  you,  auntie.  The  mate- 
rial is  an  old,  worn,  black  silk  dress  and  lint  cotton.  I  rav- 
eled the  silk  up,  then  mixed  with  the  fine  white  cotton  and 
carded  all  together  till  thoroughly  blended ;  when  spun  and 
woven  it  formed  a  beautiful  texture  of  gray,  soft  and  silkish 
to  the  touch.  The  best  of  the  worn  silk  was  put  by  for  card- 
ing and  covering  the  buttons  with.  I  don't  mind  telling  it : 
the  buttons  are  made  of  pasteboard,  and  the  dress  is  '  real 

pretty,'  I  think." 

"  My  goodness !"  said  Blount,  substituting  that  expression 
for  the  more  emphatic  expletive  in  vogue  among  gentlemen. 
But  to  Julia  it  was  an  entirely  novel  expression,  and  in  all 
innocence  she  said,  "  Your  what?" 

Latane  laughed  and  again  said:  "What  did  I  tell  you, 
Blount?    You  have  had  fair  warning." 

And  thus  the  evening  passed  in  speeches  abounding  in 
humor,  when  spoken  as  "small-talk,"  but  seeming  without 
sense  or  interest  when  written. 

In  spite  of  the  storm  and  its  ravages,  Latane  did  not  fail 
to  attend  a  wedding  at  "  The  Quarters"  that  night,  and  the 
whole  party  went  with  him.  The  scene  was  a  novel  one  to 
Julia,  whose  acquaintance  with  plantation  life  was  very 


ETOWAH.  171 

limited,  owing  to  her  father's  views  about  slavery.  These 
negro  "  quarters "  were  not  unlike  those  on  plantations 
usually.  It  consisted  of  a  village  in  itself,  where  the  hun- 
dreds of  negroes  dwelt  together  in  comfortable  white  cottages 
built  on  both  sides  a  wide  street.  Each  cottage  hai  a  garden 
attached;  also  a  poultry  yard,  and  very  frequently  a  pig-sty 
and  cow-pen.  The  master  usually  paid  cash  to  his  slaves 
for  all  the  poultry  used  by  his  family,  and  frequently  butter 
was  bought  from  them  in  the  same  way.  In  "  clear- 
ings,'' much  wood  was  left  on  the  ground,  and  all  the  wood 
not  burned  on  the  spot  was  given  to  the  slaves.  On  Satur- 
days frequently  and  on  certain  nights  in  the  week,  the  teams 
were  loaned  to  them,  and  they  hauled  this  wood  to  the  river 
bank  in  their  own  time,  and  sold  it  to  the  river  steamers, 
receiving  and  retaining  for  pocket-money  the  money  received 
therefor  In  some  instances  a  single  slave  would  thus  accu- 
mulate several  hundred  dollars  in  a  single  year;  and,  if  he 
desired  to  purchase  his  freedom  and  had  the  money  for  which 
he  could  be  sold,  he  could  always  do  so.  They  raised  large 
families,  lived  to  a  great  age  usually,  and  increased  rapidly 
in  numbers  under  this  system  of  labor. 

Not  one  individual  there  gave  a  thought  to  the  morrow, 
or  to  the  war  that  was  desolating  thousands  of  happy  homes ; 
unless  it  was  the  tall,  perfectly  black  young  negro  man  who 
stood  aloof,  and  seemed  to  be  frowning  upon  it  all.  Turn 
which  way  she  would,  Julia  could  see  his  look  of  disdain, 
but  whether  it  was  his  antagonism  to  the  presence  of  these 
white  strangers,  or  a  deeper  feeling  of  impatience  at  slavery 
itself,  she  could  not  decid^^. 

As  they  left  the  Quarters  and  returned  to  Mrs.  Latane's 
home,  she  asked :     "Captain  Latane,  what  is  the  name  of 


172  ETOWAH. 

that  tall,  young  black  man  who  stood  in  the  opposite  corner 
of  the  chapel,  as  if  to  hold  himself  aloof  from  the  dancers." 

"His  name  is  Hallback,"  said  Latane;  "he  has  been  with 
me  in  the  armv  and,  for  some  unknown  reason,  seems  to 
think  himself  superior  to  the  other  negroes." 

"I  don't  like  his  looke,"  said  Julia;  ''are  you  going  to  take 
him  back  with  you  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  Latane;  "Hall  is  very  humble  in  his 
manner  to  me ;  is  obedient,  and  as  fearless  in  battle  as  the 
bravest  soldiers  are.  But  he  is  a  mystery  to  me,  just  as  his 
name  is.  He  Was  born  here  on  the  plantation,  both  of  his 
parents  dying  shortly  after  his  birth.  My  father  gave  him  to 
me  when  I  was  ten  years  old,  and  he  has  recognized  his  po- 
sition as  my  servant  all  his  life.  I  played  with  him  as  a 
child,  and  he  used  to  prevent  me  from  imposing  upon  him 
by  stating  that  I  was  stronger  than  he  was  by  being  born  his 
master,  though  he  was  the  stronger  physicially.  He  would 
never  resent  any  blow  if  he  thought  I  was  angry,  until  I 
got  to  thinking  it  was  ungenerous  to  get  angry  with  Hall. 
He  has  always  said  that  he  belonged  to  me,  but  if  I  sold  him 
he  would  die  before  he  would  belong  to  any  one  else." 

"I  don't  like  his  looks,"  said  Julia;  "I  have  a  presentiment 
that  he  will  play  you  false  yet." 

"I  do  not  fear  it,"  said  Latane.  "If  Hall,  makes  up  his 
mind  to  leave  me  he  will  quietly  tell  me  so,  and  he  will  do 
it  if  he  can.  If  he  remains  faithful  until  the  war  ends  I  in- 
tend to  give  him  his  freedom." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FUCHSIAS    AND    GERANIUMS. 

Early  the  next  morning  Latane  drove  Miss  Bearing  to 
her  father's  home  in  the  city. 

The  birds  were  now  singing  in  chorus,  it  seemed,  as  the 
bright  sunlight  bathed  the  hills  and  dales  and  made  the  dew 
glisten  like  diamonds.  The  great  poplars  and  forest  trees 
had  donned  their  summer  dress  of  green,  and  the  buds  had 
burst  into  full  bloom.  The  forest  was  redolent  with  the  per- 
fume of  wild  flowers,  and  nature  had  painted  her  glowing 
colors  on  leaf  and  twig  and  flowers  in  delightful  contrasts — 
varied,  yet  harmonious. 

The  darker  foliage  of  the  chestnuts  and  cedars  greeted  the 
pines,  whose  lofty  heads  bowed  to  each  other  and,  sighing, 
dropped  their  "needles"  to  the  ground.  The  cattle  went 
lowing  to  the  pastures,  and  the  meadows  were  fragrant  with 
new-mown  hay. 

As  they  entered  Colonel  Leslie's  estate,"  Thronateeska,"  the 
sun  rise  shore  in  the  clouds  widened  its  limits  till  it  belted 
the  heavens  and  scattered  gems  upon  the  river  as  the  ripples 
chased  each  other  and  danced  in  the  sunlight.  Near  by  the 
river  was  wide  and  placid  as  a  lake ;  beyond,  it  was  a  succes- 
sion of  cataracts  rapidly  succeeding  each  other  and  dashing 
the  foam  on  high ;  in  front,  and  a  hundred  feet  beneath  the 
level  plateau,  was  the  city  of  Etowah  and  the  huge  factories 
which  afforded  employment  to  five  thousand  operatives. 
Now  they  neared  the  residence  at  "Thronateeska,"  its  spa- 
cious grounds  elaborately  ornamented  with  all  that  the  cost- 


174  ETOWAH. 

liest  landscape  art  affords.  Japonicas  grew  there  the  year 
round,  and  the  lawn  was  sodded  with  blue  grass  and  extend- 
ed quite  to  the  water's  edge.  Far  up  the  stream  could  be 
seen  the  many  islands  which  dotted  the  picturesque  river 
like  emerald  gems.  After  an  animated  conversation,  Julia 
asked : 

"Is  your  friend,  Major'.Blount,  a  flirt?" 

''No;  far  from  it.  Blount  has  never  pretended  to  be  in 
love  with  any  one,  and  when  he  does  he  will  be  sincere.  He 
is  tfie  noblest-hearted  fellow  I  ever  knew." 

"I  am  glad  to  know  that  he  is  too  manly  for  that ;  it  is  bad 
enough  in  a  woman,  but  I  think  it  utterly  contemptible  in 
a  man."  Then  Julia  changed  the  subject,  having  learned  all 
that  she  wished  to  know  concerning  Major  Blount.  She 
was  very  bright  and  agreeable  and  Latane  began  to  envy  the 
interest  which  his  friend  had  excited.  She  told  him  how 
much  she  admired  gallantry  in  battle,  alluding  to  Hugh,  but 
meaning  it  for  him,  and  declared  she  never  would  marry  a 
man  who  had  not  distinguished  himself  as  a  Confederate 
soldier. 

As  they  stopped  in  a  bend  of  the  road  to  view  the  scenery, 
the  clattering  of  hoofs  was  heard  approaching,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  graceful  figure  of  Clara  Leslie  galloped  up,  fol- 
lowed by  Giles,  the  groom. 

The  old  groom  was  devoted  to  his  young  mistress,  and,  as 
Clara  was  not  stopped  by  Julia  and  Henry  Latane,  who  bow- 
ed to  her  as  she  passed,  the  old  negro  rode  up  to  them  and 
said :  "Good mornin',  Miss  Julia  ;  mornin',  Captain  Latane ; 
p'raps  you  all  didn't  know  Miss  Clara."  Then,  seeing  Hen- 
ry's crutches,  he  added  :  "Sorry  to  see  you  are  hurt,  Mars 
Henry  ;  hope  your  leg  won't  have  to  come  off;  glad  to  see  you 
back  home,  sir.     Mornin',  Miss  Julia;  mornin'.  Mars  Henry. 


ETOWAH.  175 

T  must  catch  up  with  Miss  Clara,  and  tell  her  you  all  didn't 
know  who  she  was,  she  was  ridin'  b}'  so  fast,"  and  the  old 
groom  left  them? 

"A  pretty  good  lecture,"  said  Latane.  But  his  heart  did 
not  echo  the  light  speech.  His  face  had  blanched  as  white 
as  Clara's,  who  came  near  falling  as  she  saw  the  crutches  of 
the  wounded  soldier.  She  had  not  heard  of  his  return,  and 
did  not  know  that  he  had  been  wounded.  What  would  she 
not  do  to  fathom  this  mystery  which  separated  her  from  the 
only  man  she  loved? 

"Why  did  you  and  Clara  go  through  that  pantomime, 
Captain  Latane  ?  I  hope  you  h  ive  not  quarreled ;  I  thought 
vou  were  o-ood  friends."  said  Julia. 

"Really  I  did  not  expect  to  see  her,  and  did  not  know  her 
at  first.  I  never  quarreled  with  a  woman  in  my  life,  and 
Miss  Leslie  is  the  last  one  with  whom  I  could  find  fault,"  said 
Latane,  very  soberly. 

"Excuse  me  ;  I  did  not  mem  to  be  inquisitive,  but  Clara 
is  such  a  swret-tempered,  lovely  girl  that  I  wonder  that  sniy 
man  can  know  her  and  not  fall  in  love  with  her." 

"Has  she  not  many  admirers  ?  She  is  certainly  even  more 
beautiful  than  she  wa^  two  years  ago  when  I  last  saw  her.  I 
fully  agree  with  j^ou  in  your  good  opinion  of  her,"  he 
answered. 

For  once  Julia  was  misled.  This  calm,  quiet  demeanor  as 
he  alluded  thus  to  Clara  sho^ved  the  resolution  of  the  man, 
and  did  not  betray  the  struggle  which  was  going  on  in  his 
heart.  Clara's  manner  was  not  that  of  a  callous,  heartless 
flirt,  but  rather  of  one  who  uncomplainingly  had  suffered 
an  injury.  The  same  sweet,  cheerful  smile  brightened  her 
lovely  face  as  she   recognized  her   cousin's  face,  only  to  die 


176  ETOWAH. 

away  into  a  pallor  too  sudden    not  to  be  heartfelt,  as  she 
recognized  him. 

The  birds  still  twitted  in  the  wood,  and  the  flowers  and 
honeysuckles  made  the  air  fragrant  with  perfume,  while 
the  morning  breeze  brought  the  aroma  of  newly-plowed 
fields.  But  the  bright  sunny  day  had  lost  its  charm  for 
Henry  Latane.  This  estrangement  was  utterly  incompre- 
hensible, and  he  half  resolved  to  go  immediately  to  see 
Clara  and  ask  for  an  explanation.  A  chance  remark  of 
Julia  Dearing  just  then  goaded  him  inexpressibl3\  "  I  do 
hope,"  said  she,  "that  the  reported  engagement  between 
Clara  and  that  Mr.  Barnum  is  not  true.  It  would  be  such 
a  pity  if  she  were  to  marry  a  Yankee  officer.  I  can't  be- 
lieve it  is  true,  but  she  is  so  reticent  1  can't  find  out.  I 
know,  though,  that  he  addressed  her;  I  am  quite  sure  of 
that,  but  I  am  in  doubt  as  to  whether  she  refused  him." 

This,  then,  explained  it  all!  It  was  the  consciousness 
that  she  had  wronged  him  that  caused  her  sudden  emotion. 
He  would  rival  her  now ;  he  would  do  all  in  his  power  to 
win  Julia  Dearing,  and  would  show  Clara  Leslie  that  he 
was  not  as  weak  as  she  deemed  him  to  be.  Such  were 
Henry  Latane's  thoughts,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
he  wore  a  mask.  The  next  day  he  had  a  serious  fall,  which 
confined  him  to  his  room  for  sometime.  Major  Blount  di- 
vided his  time  between  Julia  Dearing  and  Latane. 

Delicacy  forbade  his  asking  his  friend  why  the  '"affair," 
as  he  termed  it,  had  been  broken  off,  but  evidently  it  had 
been.  Hence  Blount  did  not  make  Clara's  acquaintance 
but  he  lost  no  time  in  cultivating  Julia's. 

The  last  night  of  his  stay  at  "  Chestate^"  an  unexpected 
treat  awaited  Julia  and  interrupted  her  slumbers.  Below 
her  window  Major  Blount's  rich,  well-trained  voice  accom- 


ETOWAH.  177 

panied  the  guitar,  of  which  instrument  he  was  an  accom- 
plished master,  as  he  sang  the  following  serenade  composed 
by  himself: 

SERENADE. 

I  come  from  a  land  afar,  a  land  where  soft  guitar 

And  the  magic  flute 
Reply  to  harper's  strain,  reply  with  love's  refrain, 

Reply — with  sweet  salute. 

Bright  stars  of  tropic  sky,  full  moon  slow   sailing  by 

On  peaceful  azure  sea  ; 
Aid  now  the  minstrel's  lay,  where  is  my  lady — say — 

Oh  !  stars,  tell  this  to  me. 

Dear  eyes  of  deepest  blue,  dear  heart  so  fondly  true, 

Sweet  little  lily  hand ; 
"Would  I  could  clasp  again,  form,  hand  and  heart  in  mine, 

Then  life  might  fleetly  end ! 

Where  does  my  lady  sleep  /  may  angels  vigils  keep 

Over  my  lady's  rest; 
Sweet  be  her  slumbers  deep,  may  no  dark  troubles  sweep 

Over  my  lady's  breast ! 

She  threw  open  the  blinds,  the  better  to  listen  to  the  sweet 
strains  of  melody  until  they  died  away  in  the  soft  seolian 
whispers  of  the  night-wind,  and  she  thought :  "  This  has 
been  indeed  the  happiest  day  in  my  life."  And  for  a  long 
time  after  his  departure  the  memory  of  his  bright,  cheerful, 
witty  conversation  and  attractive  presence  lingered  pleas- 
antly. Had  she  met  her  match  at  last?  It  seemed  so, 
though  not  one  word  of  love  had  he  uttered.  But  she  saw 
it  in  his  eyes,  in  his  every  act  and  speech,  and  the  atten- 
tions of  no  other  man  had  affected  her  so  agreeably. 

A  few  days  later  Julia  carried  the  invalid  some  flowers, 
gathered    from   her    own   hot-house    and    from    the  forest. 

12 


178  ETOWAH. 

"  These  fuchsias  and  geraniums,  though,"  she  added,  hand- 
ing them  to  him  separately,  "  I  got  at  'Thronateeska," 
where  Clara's  geraniums  are  growing  beautifully  in  the  open 
air." 

Latane  received  them  with  evident  appreciation. 

Mrs.  Latane  was  present  when  Julia  gave  the  flowers  to 
her  son,  who  was  reclining  upon  a  lounge  in  the  library, 
and  she  did  not  fail  to  notice  a  daj^  or  two  after  that  when 
the  vase  was  replenished  with  fresh  flowers,  the  fuchsias 
and  geraniums  had  been  carefully  pressed  by  Latane,  as  if 
for  preservation,  while  the  other  flowers  were  left  to  the 
servant  who  replenished  the  vases. 

"  No  one  will  ever  know  of  it,"  he  thought ;  "  in  two  weeks 
I  will  be  with  my  command  in  Virginia,  and  I'll  keep  these 
flowers  pressed  in  my  Bible  to  remind  me  of" — gratitude 
admonished  him  to  say  "Julia,"  but  love  changed  the  utter- 
ance to  "  Clara." 

The  revelations  which  Julia  had  made  concerning  Bar- 
num's  attachment  for  Clara,  which  she  believed  to  be  recip- 
rocated, astonished  him  greatly.  He  had  not  anticipated 
this  at  least,  and  he  said  to  himself  : 

"  If  this  be  true,  then  I  will  lose  all  confidence  in  the  sta- 
bility of  any  woman.  But  why  on  earth  will  she  think  of 
marrying  an  utter  stranger?  Does  she — can  she  know  any- 
thing of  his  family?  Can  her  father  so  soon  change  all  the 
prejudices,  one  may  say,  of  a  lifetime,  and  give  his  daughter 
away  to  a  stranger  of  whose  lineage — of  whose  immediate  con- 
nections even — he  knows  absolutely  nothing?" 

And  the  more  he  pondered  over  it,  the  more  mystified  he 
became.  He  knew  nothing  of  Barnum  except  what  was  to 
his  credit,  for  he  had  always  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  noble- 
hearted  fellow  and  a  gentleman.    But  his  sister  was  certainly 


ETOWAH.  179 

the  wife  of  a  jeweler  and  watch-maker.    "How  will  Miss  Clara 
like  that  kind  of  association  ?"  he  asked  himself. 

'Of  what  are  you  thinking,  my  son?"  asked  his  mother, 
entering  the  room  in  the  midst  of  these  reveries. 

"Frankly,  mother,  my  thoughts  trouble  me  greatly;  Miss 
Julia  has  intimated  to  me  that  Miss  Clara  Leslie  is  engaged 
to  be  married  to  Barnum;  you  have  heard  me  speak  of  him, 
have  you  not?" 

"Certainly,"  answered  his  mother,  smiling  at  the  thought, 
for  the  idea  gave  her  great  pleasure,  as  she  desired  that  his 
thoughts  should  turn  to  Julia  rather  than  to  Clara.  "Cer- 
tainly," she  added,  "and  I  do  not  think  I  ever  heard  you 
praise  any  one,  except  Mr.  Blount,  so  extravagantly." 

"But,  mother,  you  surely  don't  think  the  report  can  be 
true,  do  you  ?" 

"Why  not?  If  he  is  all  that  you  say  he  is,  he  will  make  a 
model  husband,  I  think." 

"Yes,  but,  mother,  his  family— have  you  thought  about 
that?  They  are  watch-makers — at  least  his  brother-in-law  is 
-  and " 

"Put  aside  those  foolish  prejudices  my  son  ;  in  the  North 
they  do  not  attach  the  importance  to  such  matters  that  we 
foolish  Southerners  do.  Vanderbilt  was  a  common  boatman 
and  who  is  better  than  he  in  social  circles?  Who  entertained 
the  Prince  of  Wales  recent!}^  when  he  visited  this  country? 
The  daughter  of  a  millionaire,  who  made  his  money  by  hotel- 
keeping  in  New  York  city."  As  she  said  this  she  stooped 
down  and  kissed  the  forehead  of  her  handsome  son. 

Latane  laughed.  "Mother,  I  am  glad  that  you  are  becom- 
ing superior  to  our  provincial  prejudices.  I  know  a  pretty 
young  milliner  in  Richmond,  and  all  the  scruples  I  have 
had  about  proposing  to  her  have  now  vanished.     I   declare 


180  ETOWAH. 

she  is  one  of  the  hanrlsomest  and  most  charming  girls  of  my 

acquaintance,  and  when  you  Fee  her,  I  am  sure " 

"Hush,"  said  his  mother,  placing  her  hand  on  his  lips. 
"No  more  of  that,  an'  thou  lovest  me  Hal'.  In  truth,  my 
son,  I  think  differently  when  my  own  children  are  concerned, 

but " 

"It  is  just  as  I  thought,"  he  said,  laughing  as  he  spoke. 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

"taking  the  veil." 

"Through  the  long-drawn  aisle  and  fretted  vault 
The  pealing  anthem  swells  the  notes  of  praise." 

The  great  cathedral  is  crowded,  and  resounds  with  the 

world's  most  magnificent  hymn,  Kyrie  Eleison.     The  censer 

swings  to  and  fro,  and  robed  priests,  attended  by  acolytes, 

perform   those   imposing    ceremonies   which    take   yonder 

kneeling  figure,  young  and  pure  as  the  first  breath  of  spring, 

from  all  the  pleasure  and  joys  of  social  life  and  consecrate 
her  to  God. 

The  postulants  were  clad  in  pure  white,  decorated  with 
orange  blossoms.  Three  little  girls  carrying  flowers  pre- 
ceded the  candidates  upon  their  entrance  to  the  chapel.  Be- 
hind them  came  the  Sisters  of  the  convent.  To  the  strains 
of  solemn  music  the  procession  marched  slowly  up  the  aisle 
to  the  altar  where,  the  Right  Reverend  Bishop  and  his  assist- 
ant were  waiting.  Tapers  trimmed  with  orange  were  placed 
in  stands  while  the  postulants  were  prayed  for. 

The  crowd  looked  on  with  awe  and  admiration,  mingled 
with  pit}^,  that  so  fresh  and  lovely  a  blossom  should  be 
plucked  so  soon. 

"  Who  is  she?"  asked  one,  addressing  a  young  girl  who 
seemed  to  know  her. 

"  It  is  Kate  Barnum,  my  school-mate;  she  is  only  sixteen 
years  old,  and  the  sweetest  girl  in  all  the  school,"  she  replied, 

"  What  school  do  you  attend  ?  " 

"The  Convent  of  the  Sacred  heart." 

"  Are  there  no  others  to  take  the  white  veil  this  season?" 


182  ETOWAH. 

"No,  sir;  Kate  has  not  seemed  the  same  girl  since  her 
brother,  Lieutenant  Charles  Barnum,  was  killed  in  the  great 
battle.  Her  parents  are  poor,  but  they  must  be  as  nice  peo- 
ple as  live  in  New  York." 

Again  the  great  organ  peals  forth  its  melody ;  again  the 
crowd  throng  the  aisle  and  slowly  departs. 

It  is  done;  the  sacrifice  is  made,  and  one  more  beautiful 
virgin  enters  upon  her  novitiate. 

Mysterious  self-immolation !  Pare  young  heart !  Thou 
art  the  incarnation  of  heroism,  sweet,  gentle  martyr! 

"  Oh,  that  dew,  like  balm,  shall  steal 
Into  wounds  that  cannot  heal, 
Even  as  sleep  our  eyes  doth  seal ; 

"  And  that  smiles,  like  sunshine,  dart 
Into  many  a  sunless  heart ; 
For  a  smile  of  God  thou  art." 

Picture  to  yourself,  gentle  reader,  who  live  in  the  "  piping 
times  of  peace,"  the  feelings  of  Barnum's  venerable  parents. 
You  who  have  seen  how  poor  humanity  forgets  the  heroic 
valor  and  self-sacrifices  of  the  gallant  soldiers  who  yielded 
all  for  their  country ;  you  who  have  seen  the  non-combat- 
ants who  devoted  those  gallant  years  to  the  selfish  accumu- 
lation of  riches  while  their  hired  substitutes  fought  their 
country's  battles ;  you  who  have  seen  the  unknown  Confed- 
erate dead  neglected,  the  living  Confederate  maimed  neglected, 
and  time-serving  sycophants  yield  homage  and  grant 
honors  to  those  who  used  the  war  as  a  means  of  accumulat- 
ing wealth  :  imagine,  if  you  can,  their  anxiety.  They  had 
heard  nothing  from  their  absent  son— had  received  none  of 
the  letters  written  by  him. 

One  day  the  blow  came  sudden  and  startling.     The  New 
York    Tribune  contained  a  list  of  the  killed  at  Bull  Run, 


ETOWAH.  183 

and  among  them  was  that  of  Adjutant  Charles  Barnura. 
Then  followed  a  glowing  tribute  to  the  heroic  Adjutant 
Barnum,  who  fell  while  cheering  on  his  men.  The  colonel 
of  his  regiment  wrote  the  obituary  notice,  eulogizing  the 
eminent  capabilities  of  this  promising  young  officer.  The 
soldiers  of  his  company  passed  resolutions  of  condolence 
and  forwarded  them  to  his  aged  parents,  certifying  to  his 
personal  bravery  and  popularity.  Months  passed  and  no 
news  came  to  contradict  this  report.  Months  passed  and 
still  crape  ,hung  from  his  father's  door.  And  within,  the 
mother,  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  rocked  herself  to  and  fro 
like  Rachel,  and  like  Rachel  would  not  be  comforted. 

But  that  mother's  heart  never  lost  hope.  She  cherished 
as  the  most  precious  of  all  things  the  hope  born  of  the  un- 
certainty of  the  report  that  Charles  was  dead;  and  her 
thoughts  would  constantly  revert  to  that  comforting  assur- 
ance in  the  Book  of  Life,  "Thus  saith  the  Lord :  refrain 
thy  voice  from  weeping,  and  thine  eyes  from  tears ;  for  thy 
work  shall  be  rewarded,  saith  the  Lord,  and  they  shall  come 
again  from  the  land  of  the  enemy.  And  there  is  hope  in 
thine  end,  saith  the  Lord,  that  thy  child  shall  come  again 
to  his  own  border."  And  this  Rachel  never  lost  hope— never 
lost  the  thought  of  the  silver  lining  to  the  grief-clouds;  the 
rainbow  that  irradiates  the  heavens  after  the  storm ;  the 
monitor  that  whispers  cheer  to  the  surcharged  heart;  that 
lifts  up  the  despairing  soul  and  commands  it  to  "  be  brave, 
be  noble,  be  worthy  of  the  love  that  thou  hast  lost !" 

That  mother  clung  to  the  hope  which  "  hoped  against 
hope,"  which  had  been  rejected  by  all  others  as  a  mirage 
which  deceived.  That  mother's  heart  still  clung  to  hope 
like  faith  clinging  to  the  "Rock  of  Ages,"  enduring,  suffer- 
ing, trusting,  and  never  ceased  saying:  "I  mourn  for  him 


184  ETOWAH. 

but  Charles  is  alive."  Oh,  the  wealth  of  love  that  dwells  in 
a  mother's  heart ! 

A  few  more  silver  hairs  are  added  day-by-day  to  a  mother's 
head,  a  few  more  and  deeper  lines  are  'graved  by  sorrow  upon 
a  father's  furrowed  face ! 

The  mother's  tears  will  fall  at  times  in  spite  of  her,  so 
blinding  as  she  sits  there  alone  in  her  room  that  she  tries 
again  and  again  to  thread  her  needle,  and  murmurs  to  her- 
self: "  Ah,  me !  I  can  hardly  see  well  enough  to  sew." 

The  father's  hand,  in  consonance  with  his  grief-charged 
bosom,  is  at  times  so  tremulous  that  the  delicate  parts  of  a 
watch  are  misplaced  or  a  spring  broken ;  or  the  dew  of  sor- 
row is  collected  on  his  eye-glass,  so  that  the  aged  silversmith 
can  scarcely  see. 

"  I'm  getting  old,  like  a  worn-out  clock,"  he  mutters. 
''The  sands  of  time  go  regularly  in  the  hour-glass,  but  life 
seems  dreary  now  that  my  hope,  my  pride  gave  his  life  for 
his  country  !"  The  old  man  takes  out  his  silk  handkerchief, 
ostensibly  -  to  wipe  his  glasses,  reader,  but  sometimes  the 
handkerchief  is  borne  to  his  eyes,  apparently  that  he  may 
see  the  better,  really  to  hide  his  depth  of  sorrow  from  yonder 
careless  and  prying  customer,  and  the  old  man  thought : 

"  Still  waters  run  deep — aye,  they  do ;  they  do ! " 

The  fountain  of  sorrow  is  dried  up  by  loss  of  wife  or  child, 
and  misery,  in  its  last  analysis,  is  tearless.  Their  prop  and 
support  is  gone,  and  they  are  ready,  too,  to  sink  into  the 
grave. 

"But  no,  our  daughter!" 

Thus  thought  and  felt  the  aged  couple.  And  the  yonng 
maiden,  impressed  by  the  solemn  surroundings  of  convent 
life,  for  the  .first  time  dwells  upon  the  poverty  of  her  parents. 

"  Can   they,  noAV   that    brother  Charles  is  dead,  support 


ETOWAH.  185 

me?"  Persuades  herself  that  she  is  a  heavy  burden  to 
them,  and,  encouraged  by  the  good,  kind  ''Sisters"  and  the 
saintly  "  Mother-Superior,"  she  resolves  to  take  the  veil. 

The  gazettes  had  done  their  work  in  New  York.  The 
name  of  Lieutenant  Barnum  had  been  published  among  the 
killed. 

Xow,  once  again  through  the  clattering  streets  of  Xew 
York  city  he  approached  the  home  of  his  father,  the  vener- 
al>le  silversmith. 

Xo  period  of  time  since  his  exchange  and  release  from  im- 
prisonment seemed  so  long  as  that  ride  from  the  ferry  to 
that  not  distant  and  humble  home.  Xo  loneliness  is  equal 
to  that  feeling  of  being  alone  at  night  while  riding  through 
the  miles  of  brilliantly-lighted  streets  of  a  great  city  like 
Xew  York.     One  year  before,  he  had  gone  forth  as  adjutant 

of  the Xew  York  Volunteers,  his  military  training  at 

the  Military  Institute  having  fitted  him  for  that  office.  Then 
followed  the  incidents  we  have  related  after  the  terrible  bat- 
tle, in  which  his  regiment  was  almost  annihilated ;  all  of 
which  came  before  his  mind  like  a  panorama  rather  than  a 
n^ality.  He  was  still  ignorant  of  the  announcement  of  his 
death  in  the  Xew  York  papers,  and  had  hurried  to  Xew  York 
as  soon  as  his  exchange  was  effected.  Crape  was  still  hang- 
ing at  the  door  of  his  father's  house,  and  he  was  so  overcome 
by  his  fears  'concerning  his  father,  mother  and  sister  that 
some  minutes  elapsed  before  he  could  enter.  It  was  after 
twilight,  and  darkness  had  just  cast  its  shadow  over  the  earth. 
He  was  ignorant  of  all  that  had  transpired  in  that  home 
during  his  absence.  Just  one  week  before,  in  spite  of  the 
protestations  of  friends,  his  sister  had  taken  the  veil,  the  pre- 
liminary step  to  renouncing  the  world  with  all  its  pleasures 
and  hopes.     Entering  quietly,  he  proceeded  through  the  hall 


186  ETOWAH. 

to  the  dining-room,  where  there  was  a  light.  He  walked  as 
softly  as  possible,  schooling  himself  the  while  so  as  to  be 
prepared  to  hear  the  dreaded  announcement  as  calmly  as 
possible.  Which  of  the  loved  ones  had  died  ?  He  paused 
and  looked  in  ;  his  aged  father  sat  in  his  accustomed  chair, 
but  oh  !  so  much  older  and  more  care-worn  than  he  was  when 
he  last  saw  him.  The  old  man  held  one  hand  between  the 
fire  and  his  face  to  shield  his  eyes  from  the  glare,  and  seemed 
in  a  reverie.  His  one  constant,  saddened  thought,  his  dead 
soldier-boy,  was  dragging  him  to  the  grave.  His  mother's 
back  was  turned  toward  him,  but  she,  too,  seemed  bowed 
down  with  grief  and  care. 

Alas  1  was  it  his  only  sister,  then,  who  had  died  ? 

Tears  trickled  down  his  face  as  he  made  one  quick  step 
forward  and  said,  Avith  choking  voice,  "father — dearest 
mother !" 

The  plate  dropped  from  his  mother's  hands,  as  with  a  low 
moan  and  out-stretched  arms,  she  rushed  to  her  son  and 
would  have  fallen  at  his  feet  had  he  not  caught  her  to  his 
breast  as  only  a  son  can  under  such  circumstances.  She  did 
not  faint,  nor  did  she  utter  another  sound,  but  looked  up 
fondly  in  his  face  and  stroked  his  cheeks  and  head  caressing- 
ly, for  not  one  moment  had  she  ever  lost  hope  entirely  that 
her  son  might  still  be  alive.  Laying  her  head  on  his  shoulder 
she  wept  with  joy.  This  Rachel  was  comforted  at  last. 
The  father  arose,  but  fell  back  again,  and  mutely  gazed  at 
the  affecting  scene,  and  rubbed  his  hands  together  as  if  it 
was  all  unreal — a  happy  dream  to  be  terribly  shattered  by 
awaking  thoughts.  And  not  until  his  son  had  time  and 
again  spoken  did  the  old  man  say  :  "Come  hither,  Charles, 
my  son,  my  very  son — God  is  good  !" 

"Sister,  my  darling   sister  ?"   was   Charles'   answer   as  he 


ETOWAH.  187 

knelt  by  his  father.  *'Well  and  safe,"  replied  his  mother, 
unwilling  to  mar  this  joyful  reunion  by  telling  him  that 
she  had  taken  the  veil. 

Now  the  old  people,  satisfied  Avith  his  identity,  made  him 
take  a  chair  between  them,  each  holding  a  hand.  "Talk, 
my  son,  talk,"  said  the  father,  "and  tell  us  how  the  grave 
has  given  up  its  dead."  "But  wait,"  he  added,  and  going 
to  the  door  he  took  off  the  crape  hanging  there,  and  return- 
ing with  it  said  :  "No  need  for  this  now,  Eliza ;  no  need 
for  this  now  !" 

Surely  Rembrandt  had  never  a  better  candle-light  scene 
than  this,  and  his  brush  alone  could  have  done  justice  to 
it. 

The  mantle  of  age  seemed  suddenly  lifted  from  their 
shoulders,  and  that  love  which  places  the  smile  of  youth  on 
the  faces  of  the  old  seemed  to  have  rejuvenated  these  worthy 
old  people.  ^ 

The  approach  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  as  envoy  of  his 
mother,  the  Empress  of  India,  in  her  eastern  dominions,  is 
greeted  with  salvos  of  artillery,  and  thousands  of  moving 
flags  and  a  hundred  thousand  cheers  from  multitudes 
assembled  to  do  him  honor,  or  to  greet  his  safe  return  ;  but 
that  is  not  equal  to  a  precious  heart-welcome  like  this. 

The  world  reclaimed  its  owm.  Sister  Kate  was  reclaimed 
from  her  voluntary  sacrifice ;  the  bloom  returned  to  her 
cheeks,  the  smile  to  her  lips,  the  laugh  to  her  heart,  for 
"brother  Charles"  had  been  restored  to  life  and  to  her- 
Life  was  no  more  to  her  a  period  of  penance  for  sins  uncom- 
mitted. The  Mother-Superior  and  the  gentle  "Sisters" 
willingly  saw  her  go  back  to  the  world  which  she  was  so  fit- 
ted to  adorn  and  to  bless,  and  happiness  reigned  where  mis- 
ery had  set  its  seal. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

He  who  would  find  the  truest  friendship,  the  highest  type 
of  unselfishness,  must  go  into  the  homes  of  the  poor.  There 
the  ineffable  charm  of  charity  illumines  the  poorly  furn- 
ished cottage  like  the  rainbow  after  the  gloom  of  the  storm. 
It  is  of  such  a  home  and  such  a  character  that  we  have  now 
to  do,  for  of  such  a  charity  was  the  soul  of  old  Mrs.  Higgins 
illumined. 

''My  dear  child,  I've  come  to  warn  you  against  that  3"0ung 
man." 

"Which  young  man,  Mrs.  Higgins?  Do  you  allude  to 
Thomas  Radcliff?" 

"No,  Agnes,  no ;  Thomas  is  one  of  the  best  workers  in  the 
mill,  and  would  make  you  a  good  husband;  I  wish  you 
would  encourage  him  more  than  you  do ;  you  know  he  loves 
you  devotedly." 

Agnes  Vincent  stopped  washing  the  dishes,  was  silent 
a  few  moments,  then  said :  "Mr.  Radcliff  has  never  told  me 
that  he  loved  me.  Besides,  I  never  wish  to  marry  until  I  am 
in  love  myself." 

She  had  grown  to  be  a  very  handsome  j'^oung  woman,  and 
was  generally  acknowledged  to  be  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  fac- 
tory village,  in  spite  of  the  care  of  a  dependent  family  which 
had  devolved  upon  her  chiefly  since  her  mother's  death.  Mrs. 
Higgins  had  risen  from  her  chair  and,  putting  her  hand  on 
the  girl's  shoulder,  said:  "Agnes,  I  was  your  mother's  best 
friend — unless  it  be  Mrs.  Latane,  God  bless  her! — and  I  have 
come  here  to  warn   you,   child,    against   that   3'oung  man! 


ETOWAH.  18^ 

Mind  whom  vou  love  and  hoAv  vou  love  ;  but  remember, 
child,  bread  and  meat  helps  folks  to  love  powerful!  Love 
can't  go  to  bed  on  a  hungry  stomach  and  enjoy  it. 

"Young  folks  will  be  young  folks,  but  all  folks  grow  old 
and  experience  is  the  best  larning.  I've  come  here,  though^ 
to  mind  you  against  that  young  man  !  "  As  the  old  woman 
said  this  she  shook  her  stick  in  a  threatening  manner  in  the 
direction  of  the  Potts  mansion,  which  overlooked  Pottsville, 
as  the  village  where  the  operatives  lived  was  called. 

''Why,  Mrs.  Higgins!  how  can  you  be  so  unjust  to  young 
Mr.  Potts  ?  I  think  he  is  the  best  and  kindest  young  man 
I  know.  He  pays  me  more  for  my  work  and  requires  me  to 
work  less  than  any  of  the  girls  in  the  factory." 
•  ''  That's  what  I  say,  too !  that's  what  other  eyes  than  your'n 
have  been  seein',  and  other  tongues  than  mine  have  been 
talkin'  about  young  Potts'  'tentions  and  kindness  to  you  !  I 
want  to  put  you  on  your  guard  against  that  young  man," 
shaking  her  stick  more  emphatically  than  ever,  as  she  spoke. 

Agnes  burst  into  tears.  ''Oh!  Mrs.  Higgins,"  she  said,  "I 
wouldn't  be  disrespectful  to  you  for  anj^thing,  for  I  never  see 
you  without  thinking  of  my  poor  mother.  But  you  are  so 
unjust  to  Mr.  Potts.  He  has  explained  it  all  to  me — says  he 
sees  how  hard  a  burden  mine  is,  and  he  wants  to  lighten  it 
as  much  as  he  can.  He  would  do  the  same  thinoj  for  anv  of 
the  girls  whose  mother  and  father  were  dead  and  who  had  to 
support  her  little  sisters  and  brothers  ;  indeed  he  would,  for 
he  told  me  so.  And  then  he  comes  here  to  see  me,  and  talks 
so  kindly  to  me  and  the  children.  Last  Sunday  evening  he 
saw  me  down  at  the  spring  and  insisted  on  bringing  the 
bucket  of  water  up  the  hill  to  the  house  !  And  in  truth, 
Mrs.  Higgins,  I  never  did  have  such  a  friend." 

''Well,  Agnes,  I  hope  you  never  will  have  such  another T 


190  ETOWAH 

I've  done  my  duty  to  your  dead  mother.  I  tell  you  that 
young  Potts  won't  do !  no,  nur  his  father  before  him,  for  all 
his  prayin'  and  palaverin' !  He  don't  mean  you  no  good, 
child ;  and  you'll  find  it  out  soon  enough !  Good-bye,  Agnes," 
said  the  old  woman,  wiping  her  eyes  with  the  corner  of  her 
apron.     "Good-bye;  may  the  Lord  take  care  of  you!" 

Agnes  had  not  told  the  whole  story  to  Mrs.  Higgins ;  that 
Sunday  evening  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  had  lingered  in 
the  cottage  until  the  dusk  of  twilight.  He  had  played  with 
the  children  as  if  they  were  his  kith  and  kin,  although  no 
military  martinet  was  ever  stricter  than  he  when  connected 
with  the  great  cotton  factory.  No  other  family  was  visit- 
ed by  him,  and  he  was  ever  haughty  with  the  other  oper- 
atives, checking  instantly  the  slightest  approach  to  famil- 
iarity. He  was  a  despot  in  the  small  sphere  in  which  he 
moved,  and  was  cordially  hated  by  his  employees.  Agnes 
had  accompanied  him  to  the  gate  and  he  had  pressed  her 
hand  as  he  bade  her  good-night  and  complimented  her  upon 
her  beauty. 

She  blushed  and  seemed  confused.  "  What  did  it  mean  ?" 
she  asked  herself,  and  long  after  the  children  had  gone  to 
sleep,  she  remained  awake  thinking  of  the  good,  kind-hearted 
Mr.  Potts,  who  had  taken  such  a  deep  interest  in  her.  The 
rosy  God  fanned  her  smiles  into  dreams,  and  she  dreamed  of 
love.  Weeks  passed  and  these  little  attentions  increased,  and 
she  began  to  miss  them  when  he  would  allow  an  entire  week 
to  pass  by  without  coming  to  see  "how  the  little  ones  were  get- 
ting on."  He  punctually  attended  his  Bible-class  and  these 
children  belonged  to  it.  His  voice,  however  harsh  to  others, 
was  ever  gentle  to  her,  and  his  eyes  lingered  upon  her  when- 
ever she  passed  him.  He  noticed,  too,  that  she  blushed  be- 
neath his  ardent  gaze. 


ETOWAH.  191 

Again  Mrs.  Higgins  entered  the  room;  this  time  Agnes 
was  sitting  alone  looking  into  the  fire,  evidently  in  deep 
thought  and  the  thought  was  evidently  pleasing  to  her. 

"  Agnes,"  said  Mrs.  Higgins. 

The  girl  started  and  seemed  surprised,  for  latterly  Mrs- 
Higgins  had  seemed  to  avoid  her. 

"Come  in,  Mrs.  Higgins;  you  are  always  welcome." 

"  Agnes,  I  did  not  come  to  sit  down,  but  to  tell  you  that 
Thomas  Radcliff  is  read}^  and  anxious  to  marry  you.  He 
told  me  to  tell  3^ou  so.  He  says  he  has  tried  very  hard  to  do 
it  himself,  but  that  you  always  repulse  him  and  look  so 
proud-like  that  he  hesitates  to  tell  you  that  he  loves  you 
as  an  honest  man  should  love  a  true,  honest  woman.  Will 
vou  marrv  Thomas,  child  ?" 

"Mrs.  Higgins,  I  do  not  love  Thomas  Radcliff,  and  he 
knows  it.     I  will  never  marry  anybody  I  don't  love." 

"Good-bye,  then,  Agnes;  I  have  done  my  duty  to  your 
dead  mother  and  to  the  living  Thomas !  May  the  Lord  take 
care  of  you,  Agnes  !  Mind  you  don't  learn  to  love  that  young 
man  ;  if  you  do,  may  the  good  Lord  help  you!" 

As  Mrs.  Higgins  left  the  cottage  Agnes  returned  to  her 
chair  and  looked  into  the  fire,  and  great  big  tears  came  slow- 
ly to  her  eyes.  "It  is  so  hard,"  thought  Agnes,  "that  every- 
body should  turn  against  me  just  because  I  like  Mr.  Potts. 
Do  I  love  him  ?  Yes  I  do !  and  I  know  he  loves  me,  though 
he  has  not  told  me  so.  I  would  not  give  one  smile  from  him 
for  all  the  praises  of  everybody  !''  As  she  sat  thus  upon  the 
plain  split-bottomed  chair,  her  hands  beneath  her  chin,  look- 
ing into  the  coals  which  glowed  brightly,  time  passed  with- 
out her  reckoning  it. 

The  door  of  the  cottage  was  near  the  fire-place  and  Well- 


192  ETOWAH. 

ington  Napoleon  Potts  entered  the   room  without  her    no- 
ticing .  it. 

The  meanest  of  mankind  was  a  child  once,  and  was  loved 
and  caressed  on  a  mother's  breast,  and  the  dead  mother  of 
Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  was  a  good  woman,  sadly  mated 
to  a  harsh  man.  Agreeable,  nnd  even  subservient  to  the 
world  at  large,  he  had  been  a  tyrant  in  the  home-circle,  and 
fear  supplanted  love  where  love  should  have  reigned  su- 
preme. The  meanest  of  mankind  can  love;  but  selfishness 
dwarfs  love,  and  selfishness  was  the  most  prominent  trait  in 
the  character  of  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts.  He  had  been 
to  school  in  Washington  City,  where  liberty  is  construed  to 
mean  license,  and  he  had  not  been  unobservant  of  the  "  vices 
of  gentlemen,"  notably  made  manifest  by  senators  and  rep- 
resentatives, whose  official  position  shields  them  from'  arrest. 
It  needed  no  Asmodeus  now  to  guide  this  sanctimonious 
Lothario  in  following  the  example  of  these  seigneurs.  He 
stood  behind  the  chair  with  admiring  eyes,  then  softlv  ca- 
ressed her  head.  She  arose  quickly  with  frightened  look, 
but  he  re-assured  her  with  the  words  : 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed ;  no  one  shall  hurt  you  while  I  am 
here." 

His  eyes  arrested  hers,  and  she  seemed  under  a  spell  like- 
that  of  the  poor,  fluttering  little  bird  which  flies  round  and 
round  the  glittering  eyes  of  the  serpent  until  it  is  irresistibly 
drawn  into  the  fatal  snare.  Recovering  herself  at  last,  she 
said  in  a  pleading  tone : 

"I've  been  warned  against  you." 

His  only  reply  was  to  place  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and 
drawing  her  to  him,  ask  her  if  she  thought  he  would  harm 
one  whom  he  loved  so  dearly. 

"Do  you  really  love  me — love  me  honestly?"   she  asked. 


ETOWAH.  193 

*'  Can  you  doubt  it,  my  darling?  I  have  come  to  ask  you 
to  be  my  wife.  Tell  me  nothing  about  your  humble  station. 
I  know  that  you  return  my  love,  and  you  shall  be  mine." 

Her  head  sank  on  his  shoulder  as  her  form  was  drawn  to 
his,  and  he  kissed  her  passionately.  She  trembled— trembled 
like  the  sensitive-plant,  and  well  she  might ! 

Could  Faust  have  witnessed  that  passionate  kiss  he  would 
have  laughed  with  more  diabolical  glee  than  when  Margue- 
rite succumbed.  That  was  the  loss  of  one  pearl  above  price  ; 
this  the  beginning  of  the  ruin  of  the  support  of  a  dependent 
family.  A  few  moon-lit  walks;  a  thousand  oaths  to  love, 
honor  and  protect ;  a  promise  to  marry  her,  and  then  the  old, 
old  story. 

It  is  a  few  months  later. 

"  What  a  lovely  face  that  girl  has,  "said  Julia  Dearing 
when  riding  with  Potts  one  day.  ''  It  is  one  of  the  faces 
which  Carlo  Dolce  took  from  real  life,  perhaps  from  the 
peasantry  of  Italy,  and  transferred  to  his  canvas  as  Ma- 
donnas. Did  you  ever  notice  the  sad  beauty  of  the  Ma- 
donnas painted  by  Carlo  Dolce,  Mr.  Potts  ?  I  think  no  one 
ever  painted  sadness  as  he  did,  and  no  one  knew  better  the 
efficacy  of  blue  colors  in  painting.  That  girl's  sweet,  mel- 
ancholy face  recalls  his  Madonnas  more  than  any  face  I 
ever  saw.  Pray,  who  is  she?  She  can't  be  an  operative; 
her  face  is  too  refined." 

Potts  winced  at  this  remark;  he,  too,  had  seen  that  sad, 
reproachful  glance,  as  the  wronged  Agnes  looked  steadily  at 
him  as  he  rode  past  with  this  dashing  equestrienne,  and  his 
heart  smote  him  for  his  perfidy.  It  was  with  assumed  care- 
lessness that  he  replied  : 

"Yes;  she  is  an  operative,  and  is  considered  the  village 
bellp." 

13 


194  ETOWAH. 

"  I  declare,"  said  Julia,  looking  back;  "  the  poor  girl  is  cry- 
ing; I  know  she  is  a  good  girl;  no  one  but  a  good  woman 
can  have  such  a  face  as  hers." 

"  I  wish  she  was  in  Hades !"  thought  Potts,  but  he  quickly 
answered  :  "She  is  doubtless  thinking  of  her  mother  to  whom 
Mrs.  Latane  was  so  kind.  Seeing  you  ride  past  with  all  your 
radiant  beauty,  doubtless,  recalled  to  her  some  other  day 
when  she  saw  you,"  said  he. 

"Is  that  Agnes  Vincent?  I  must  ride  back  and  speak  to 
her.  I  would  not  wound  that  noble  girl's  heart  for  a  king- 
dom!" said  Julia.  "I  will  wait  for  you,  then,  until  your 
return,"  said  Potts ;  "I  see  enough  of  the  operatives  without 
spoiling  a  pleasure-ride  to  greet  them."  This  was  said  in  a 
half-appealing  tone,  but  Julia  would  not,  or  did  not,  under- 
stand him,  so  she  said  :  "  You  shall  do  no  such  thing !  you 
must  go  with  me  and  introduce  me  to  her." 

"  Introduce  you  to  a  factory  girl !"  said  Potts  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Yes,  certainly ;  why  shouldn't  you?  I  am  sure  I  feel 
honored  in  making  the  acquaintance  of  one  of  nature's  no- 
blewomen ;  her  devotion  to  her  demented  mother  makes  her 
a  heroine  in  my  eyes,"  and,  suiting  action  to  word,  she  turned 
her  horse  and  galloped  back.  There  was  no  help  for  it  and 
Potts  followed.  How  he  did  curse  the  innocent  author  of 
this  ill-timed  meeting.  He  had  ridden  with  Julia  around 
through  the  village  in  order  to  impress  her  with  his  pros- 
pective wealth  and  actual  business  qualifications.  He  now 
wished  he  had  never  seen  Julia  or  Agnes.  Agnes  was  con- 
fused and  embarrassed  when  Julia  rode  up  to  her. 

"  Agnes,"  said  Potts,  "  this  is  Miss  Dearing."  Julia's  in- 
dignant glance  at  the  speaker  smote  bim  like  the  lash  upon 
the  back  of  the  criminal  in  the  pillory.     She  instantly  said  : 


ETOWAH.  195 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  know  you,  Miss  Vincent;  I  saw  you  nurs- 
ing your  sick  mother  and  have  been  wanting  to  tell  you  how 
nobly  you  performed  a  daughter's  part.  I  have  no  mother 
and  we  can  sympathize  with  each  other.  You  must  not 
hesitate  to  come  to  see  me,  and  I  will  take  great  pleasure  in 
returning  your  call  as  often  as  you  come." 

"You  are  very  kind,  Miss  Dearing,  very  kind  to  speak  thus 
to  a  poor  girl  like  me !  I  am  sure  I  appreciate  it ;  you  must 
not  think  I  do  not  if  I  fail  to  accept  your  invitation."  Then 
Agnes  burst  into  tears  and,  to  spare  her  feelings,  Julia  rode 
off. 

"  For  shame,  Mr.  Potts !  How  could  you  introduce  Agnes 
Vincent  to  me  as  if  she  was  a  servant?" 

"You  are  a  strange  girl,  Mi^?s  Julia;  who  would  think  a 
proud  beauty  like  you- -and  you  are  the  proudest  girl  I  ever 
saw — you,  an  heiress — who  would  think  that  you  would  put 
yourself  on  an  equality  with  a  factory  girl?" 

"  For  shame !  for  shame  !  I  wish  I  coidd  put  myself  on 
an  equality  with  her.  She  is  one  of  those  devoted  charac- 
ters that  we  read  of  in  novels,  but  seldom  see  in  real  life. 
There  are  some  rich  people  unworthy  to  tie  her  shoes,  and 
I  feel  humble  when  in  her  presence." 

This  was  a  new  revelation  to  Potts.  He  had  never  had 
the  faintest  idea  before  that  there  was  any  criterion  of  merit 
but  success,  and  success  with  him  meant  wealth. 

Agnes  Vincent  was  as  beautiful  as  the  Virgin  described 
by  Tasso,  although  she  was  but  a  factory  girl. 

Potts  had  been  her  teacher  in  the  Bible-class  at  Sunday- 
school,  and,  like  Rousseau's  young  teacher,  he  had  been  guilty 
of  outraging  hospitality.  "  Instead  of  instructing  he  cor- 
rupts; instead  of  protecting  he  poisons;  he  permits  himself 
to  be  thanked  by  an  abused  mother  who  has  lost  her  child . 


196  ETOWAH. 

One  feels  sometimes  that  passion  has  blindly  overcome  them  ; 
her  youth  does  not  excuse  her,  and,  in  spite  of  his  grand 
discourse,  he  can  only  be  a  scoundrel.  The  two  may  make 
excuses,  but  the  mother  alone  is  responsible." 

Agnes  Vincent  had  no  mother.  She  did  have  a  dead 
mother's  children  dependent  upon  her  for  support  and  moral 
guidance.  But,  alas !  her  step  is  slower  now  as  she  goes  and 
comes  from  work.  Her  cheery  voice  no  longer  sings  with 
the  early  matin  birds  as  she  prepares  the  frugal  meal  for 
the  little  family  gathered  around  the  humble  pine  table. 
The  rosy  hue  on  her  cheeks  is  not  as  bright  as  it  was,  but 
her  figure  is  still  more  charming — as  the  bud  blooms  into  the 
flower.  There  is  a  gentler  look,  at  times,  in  those  deep  blue 
eyes,  and  then  a  longing  look  as  if  seeking  some  expected 
loved  one.  Often  a  big,  pearly  tear  creeps  down  her  cheeks 
as  she  sews  on  the  garments  intended  for  her  dear  little 
sisters.  Her  head  is  bent  forward  eagerly;  she  hears  a  foot- 
step ;  is  up — meets  him,  and  is  clasped  in  his  arms !  Then 
she  forgets  all  save  her  love  for  him ;  his  crime— her  sin,  too 
innocent  almost  to  be  called  a  sin — and  tells  him  she  will 
follow  him  oveif  the  Avorld  if  need  be,  and  he  sees  her  life  is 
inwoven  with  his.  At  length  she  weeps;  the  month  has 
passed— two  months,  and  still  he  procrastinates!  Three 
months !  and  he  rides  with  Julia  Dearing !  his  manner  to 
her  no  longer  as  it  was.  Her  grief  culminates  in  misery. 
All  shun  her,  even  Mrs.  Higgins ;  "Oh,  for  the  rarity  of  Chris- 
tian charity !"     All,  all  treat  her  as  if  she  was  a  leper ! 

"Yes,  stone   the  woman— let  the  man  go  free  I 
Draw  back  your  skirts  lest  they  perchance 
May  touch  her  garments  as  she  passes, 
But  to  him  put  forth  a  willing  hand, 
To  clasp  with  his  that  led  h<ir  to  destruction 


ETOWAH.  197 


And  disgrace.     Shut  up  from  her  the  sacred 
Ways  of  toil,  that  she  no  more  may  win  an 
Honest  meal — but  ope  to  him  all  honorable 
Faiths,  where  he  may  win  distinction. 


>» 


Then  he  sears  her  heart  as  with  burning  iron  by  offering 
her  gold. 

She  will  not  hear  more;  cpsts  from  her  his  proffered  gold, 
and,  with  one  plaintive  cry  and  hands  clasped  appealingly  to 
his  flint-set  face,  she  sinks  into  unconsciousness   at  his  feet. 

The  sickness  of  Agnes  Vincent  was  known  to  be  critical 
among  the  operatives  in  Pottsville,  and  more  than  one  anx- 
ious face  indicated  her  popularity.  The  frequent  visits  of 
the  doctor  excited  comment,  and  many  were  the  praises  ut- 
tered concerning  Potts'  magnanimity  in  sending  for  the  high- 
est-priced physician  to  attend  the  poor  factory  girl.  We 
have  all  done  injustice  to  young  Mr.  Potts ;  he  seems  to  be  a 
hard  man  in  exacting  labor,  but  he  shows  now  that  he  has 
a  kind  heart.  Another  sympathized  with  old  Mrs.  Higgins, 
who  was  still  a  doubter,  but  whose  tongue  was  hushed  for 
tw^o  reasons — one,  sympathy  for  the  wronged  girl,  and  the 
other  her  conviction  that  the  truth  would  soon  be  developed 
and  would  crush  the  villain,  as  he  deserved  to  be  crushed. 

The  doctor's  visit  on  one  occasion  was  unusually  pro- 
longed, and  his  countenance  was  unusually  grave  as  he  en- 
countered Potts  walking  slowly  in  the  street  as  he  left  the 
Vincent  cottage. 

With  assumed  carelessness  Potts  asked  him  concerning  the 
illness  of  Agnes  Vincent. 

''She  is  very  ill,  critically  ill,"  replied  the  doctor.  ''She 
has  brain  fever ;  I  seriously  doubt  her  recovery." 

"Indeed  !  I  am  exceedingly  sorry,  and  am  very  much  sur- 
prised to  hear  this  statement,"  said  Potts. 


198  ETOWAH. 

"Her  mother  Avas  insane,  Avas  she  not?" 
"Yes,"  replied  Potts,  "but  Agnes  is  too  young  for  that." 
"I  don't  know  about  that;   some   great  fear  seems  to  op- 
press her,  some  foreboding  secret." 

"Why,  what  secret  could  oppress  one  so  young  as  she  is?" 
"Mr.  Potts,  I  fear  some  one  has  infamously  deceived   that 
poor  young  girl;  in  fact,  I  know  it,"  replied  the  doctor,  eye- 
ing Potts  intently  as  he  spoke. 

With  averted  face  but  imperturbable  manner.  Potts  an- 
swered :  "I  dare  say  you  are  correct ;  indeed,  I  have  suspected 
it  already.  She  is  quite  a  belle  among  the  operatives,  and 
you  know,  among  people  of  her  class  in  life,  such  accidents, 
or  incidents,  are  not  uncommon.  If  it  is  true  the  villain 
should  be  punished,  and  I  will  contribute  to  effect  that ;  yet 
I  hope  you  are  mistaken,  both  as  to  your  diagnosis  and  the 
probable  termination  of  her  sickness.  Good  morning,  Doc- 
tor." The  doctor  stood  watching  him  several  moments  un- 
til he  turned  the  corner  and  Avas  out  of  sight. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

UNCLE  BARNEY. 

The  young  negro  valet,  Hallback,  was  an  interesting  char- 
acter in  his  way.  His  grandfather  was  said  to  have  been  the 
chief  of  the  Askari  tribe  before  he  had  been  captured  and 
brought  to  America  and  sold  into  slavery.  It  was  said  that 
he  was,  when  brought  to  Virginia  from  Africa,  a  remarkably 
stalwart  young  man.  He  had  wonderfully  good  eyesight 
and  health,  and  was  never  sick  in  his  life.  His  teeth  were 
perfectly  sound  at  the  time  of  his  death  at  the  age  of  102 
years. 

Whether  true  or  false  the  effect  of  this  tradition  was  to 
give  to  Hallback  a  self-esteem  not  common  with  his  race, 
and,  his  pretensions  not  being  received  pleasantly  by  the 
negroes  on  the  estate,  intensified  his  feeling  of  isolation. 

The  fact,  too,  that  education  was  denied  by  law  to  slaves, 
and  that  his  young  master  had  instructed  his  sable  play-fel- 
low in  the  rudiments  of  reading  and  writing,  inculcated  a 
morose  feeling  of  discontent  in  the  breast  of  this  young  negro 
slave.  But  he  never  complained  of  his  lot,  for  he  could  but 
realize  that  his  very  isolation  caused  a  deeper  sympathy  to 
be  felt  and  shown  him  by  his  mistress  and  her  children  than 
was  evinced  for  the  other  negroes.  He  was  perfectly  black, 
and,  never  having  labored  at  hard  work,  his  hands  and  feet 
were  smaller  than  those  of  negroes  usually  are.  One  day 
after  Henry  Latane's  return  home  on  furlough,  he 
secured  a  copy  of  ''Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  and  though  it  was 
difficult  for  him  to  read  it,  he  did  so  at  night  by  the  light- 


200  ETOWAH. 

wood  fire  in  his  cabin,  and  from  that  day  his  mind  brooded 
over  his  situation  and  condition  as  a  slave.  His  near  rela- 
tives were  dead,  and  he  had  no  one  in  whom  he  could  con- 
fide the  thoughts  which  grew  like  an  yeast  in  his  brain  until 
sleep  seemed  banished  from  his  pillow.  There  is  just  enough 
truth  in  that  wonderful  romance  to  lend  conviction  to  an 
ignorant  mind,  eager  to  believe  all  that  is  there  related,  yet 
appreciative  of  the  rare  kindness  which  has  been  his  portion 
all  his  life. 

To  his  mind  every  aged  butler  was  another  "Uncle  Tom ;" 
and  he  felt  quite  sure  that  his  little  mistress,  Minnie,  was 
another  Eva,  blessed  with  all  that  lends  to  human  nature  its 
sunniest  attributes. 

He  loved  as  well  as  respected  Henry  Latane,  who,  wheth- 
er in  camp  or  in  the  snow-bound  bivouac,  always  divided 
such  luxuries  as  he  had  with  his  faithful  servant,  and  ever 
endeavored  to  shield  him  from  the  post  of  danger.  But 
Hallback seemed  indifferent  to  danger:  and  while  he  took  no 
part  in  the  battles  and  skirmishes  in  which  his  young  mas- 
ter was  so  frequently  engaged,  he  was  often  under  fire,  and 
seemed  to  court,  rather  than  avoid,  danger. 

He  surprised  Henry  Latane  one  day  b}^  replying  to  his 
order  that  he  should  go  to  the  rear :  "I  will  go,  Marse  Hen- 
ry, since  you  order  me  to ;  but  I  wish  I  had  a  country  to  fight 
for!" 

Meanwhile,  he  was  obedient,  submissive  and  patient,  and 
no  one  could  justly  upbraid  him  for  not  doing  his  duty. 

After  the  battles,  he  would  request  Latane's  permission  to 
go  out  with  the  ambulance  and  succor  the  wounded,  and 
the  drivers  observed,  without  ol^jecting,  that  Hallback 
seemed  particularly  solicitous  about  the  wounded  Federal 
soldiers. 


ETOWAH.  201 

In  battle,  animosity  gives  way  before  the  flash  of  eternity 
Avhich  is  before  every  man's  eyes,  and  he  is  a  craven  at  heart 
who  would  not  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  a  gallant  foeman 
after  the  clash  of  arms  is  ended. 

These  facts  were  reported  to  Captain  Latane,  who  chose  to 
be  oblivious  of  them,  for  already  the  Federal  Government 
was  enlisting  negro  slaves  in  the  Union  armies,  and  regi- 
ments of  black  troops  were  being  mustered  into  service.  He 
determined  that  he  would  not  interfere  if  Hallback  decided 
to  cross  the  lines  and  enlist  himself. 

"Marse  Henry,  here  is  your  purse;  I  think  you  will  find 
every  dollar  in  it  that  it  contained  when  you  gave  it  to  me 
to  keep  for  you,"  said  Hallback  to  Henry  Latane  when  the 
surgeon  informed  the  latter  that  he  should  consider  himself 
out  of  danger  from  his  wound,  and  recommended  that  he 
should  go  home  to  get  entirely  convalescent. 

''Thank  you,  Hall.,"  he  replied ;  "I  don't  doubt  it ;  you  have 
never  failed  to  take  good  care  of  anything  I  confided  to  your 
care,  and  I  will  not  take  the  trouble  to  count  it.  Here  is 
some  money  for  you.  If  you  want  more,  and  I  can  spare  it, 
vou  shall  have  it." 

Such  was  the  relationship  between  this  master  and  his 
slave,  and  yet  Hallback  was  not  satisfied,  and  after  the  con- 
clusion of  the  festivities,  in  which  he  had  not  participated 
except  as  a  spectator,  related  in  a  previous  chapter,  he 
repaired  to  a  large  double  cabin,  the  best  in  the  quarters, 
and  knocked  at  the  door.  There  was  a  bright  lightwood 
fire  on  the  hearth,  and  yet  there  was  no  response.  Becom- 
ing impatient,  he  opened  the  door,  and  saw,  kneeling  by  a 
table  on  which  was  a  large  Bible,  ''Uncle  Barney." 

He  took  ofi*  his  hat  and  listened  as  the  venerable  negro 
preacher  (who  was  a  blacksmith  by  trade)  uttered  a  pathetic 


202  ETOWAH. 

prayer  for  the  welfare  of  the  two  members  of  his  congrega- 
tion whose  young  lives  he  had  united  that  day.  He  con- 
cluded his  prayer  by  pleading  that  his  young  master,  Henry 
Latane,  might  be  spared  to  his  mother  and  his  people,  and 
that  his  servant,  Hallback,  might  be  turned  from  the  evil 
thoughts  which  seemed  to  be  getting  possession  of  him. 

As  he  arose  from  his  knees,  Hallback  extended  his  hand, 
smiled,  and  thanked  him  for  his  solicitude. 

"Why  have  you  come  to  see  me,  Hall.,  so  late  to-night? 
You  ought  to  be  abed." 

"Uncle  Barney,  I  am  pestered  in  my  mind,  and  I  want  to 
talk  to  you!" 

"Sit  down.  Hall.,  and  tell  me  your  troubles,"  said  Barney, 
wiping  his  spectacles  and  adjusting  them  again. 

"  I  have  no  personal  troubles.  Uncle  Barney,  for  it  seems 
to  me  that  every  favor  which  could  be  shown  a  slave  is  given 
to  me,  but  I  am  tired  of  being  a  slave!"  Hallback  said  this 
with  a  free,  frank  manner,  which  was  equivalent  to  saying : 
"You  may  speak  of  this  to  whom  you  please,  but  I  am 
determined  to  be  free." 

Old  Barney  arose  from  his  chair,  and  placing  his  hands  on 
the  young  man's  shoulders,  turned  his  face  to  the  light  and 
said:  "Hallback,  do  you  realize  what  you  are  talking 
about?" 

The  young  negro  did  not  wince,  or  move  a  muscle,  but 
answered  firmly,  "I  do." 

"Do  you  remember  the  fate  of  George  Standback?" 

"Yes ;  he  attempted  to  make  his  way  to  the  free  States, 
and  was  hunted  down,  and,  when  he  refused  to  surrender  in 
the  swamp,  he  was  shot  down  by  the  overseer." 

"Who  Avas  that  overseer?" 

"Mr.  Washburn." 


ETOWAH.  203 

"Who  have  you  been  talking  to  about  making  your  way 
to  the  free  States?" 

"To  no  one.  But  I  must  sav  that  Mr.  Washburn  has  sent 
me  word  that  he  wanted  to  talk  to  me  about  freedom." 

"I  thought  so.  Now,  Hall.,  what  did  mistress  do  when 
Mr.  Washburn  shot  George  Standback?" 

"She  dismissed  him  from  her  service,  and,  I  am  told, 
la  wed  him!" 

"And  what  was  the  result?" 

"The  result  was  that  he  was  cleared,  and  that  is  the  result 
every  time  a  nigger  is  murdered  by  a  white  man  !" 

His  eyes  were  flashing  now,  and  he  looked  as  if  he  could 
throttle  "Mr.  Washburn,"  as  he  paced  the  floor.  Then  he 
continued,  "We  have  no  rights.  The  juries  are  composed  of 
white  men  only,  and  they  do  not  often  dignify  us  with 
imprisonment.     It  is  the  whip  which  conquers  the  slave!" 

The  old  man  had  taken  his  seat,  and,  with  a  face  beaming 
with  compassion,  he  answered : 

"Sit  down.  Hall.,  and  hear  me  read,  and  then  we  will  talk." 
He  opened  the  Bible  and  read  from  the  fifth  chapter  of  Ex- 
odus as  follows:  "And  Pharaoh  commanded  the  same  day 
the  taskmasters  of  the  people,  and  their  officers,  saying.  Ye 
shall  no  more  give  the  people  straw  to  make  brick,  as  here- 
tofore :  let  them  go  and  gather  straw  for  themselves.  And  the 
tale  of  the  bricks  which  they  did  make  heretofore,  ye  shall 
lay  upon  them;  ye  shall  not  diminish  aught  thereof :  for  they 
be  idle ;  therefore  they  cry,  saying.  Let  us  go  and  sacrifice  to 
our  God.  Let  there  more  work  be  laid  upon  the  men,  that 
thev  mav  labour  therein. 

"And  the  taskmasters  of  the  people  went  out,  and  their  offi- 
cers, and  they  spoke  to  the  people,  saying,  Thus  saith  Pha- 
raoh, I  will  not  givB  you  straw.     Go  ye,  get  you  straw  where 


204  ETOWAH. 

ye  can  find  it,  vet  not  aught  of  your  work  shall  be  dimin- 
ished. So  the  people  were  scattered  abroad  throughout  all 
the  land  of  Egypt  to  gather  stubble  instead  of  straw.  And 
the  taskmasters  hasted  them,  saying;  Fulfil  your  works,  jour 
daily  tasks,  as  when  there  was  straw.  And  the  officers  of 
the  children  of  Israel  which  Pharaoh's  taskmasters  had  set 
oyer  them,  were  beaten,  and  demanded,  wherefore  haye  ye 
not  fulfilled  your  tasks  in  making  bricks  both  yesterday  and 
to-day  as  heretofore? 

"  Then  the  officers  of  the  children  of  Israel  came  out  and 
cried  unto  Pharaoh,  saying,  Wherefore  dealest  thou  thus 
with  thy  seryants?  There  is  no  straw  giyen  unto  thy  sery- 
ants,  and  they  say  unto  us,  make  brick ;  and  behold  thy  sery- 
ants are  beaten,  but  the  fault  is  in  thine  own  people.  But 
he  said.  Ye  are  idle,  ye  are  idle ;  therefore  ye  say,  Let  us  go 
and  do  sacrifice  unto  our  Lord.  Go  therefore  now  and  work, 
for  there  shall  be  no  straw  giyen  3^ou,  yet  shall  ye  deliyer 
the  task  of  bricks. 

"And  the  officers  of  the  children  of  Israel  did  see  that  they 
were  in  eyil  case,  after  it  was  said.  Ye  shall  not  diminish 
aught  from  your  bricks  of  your  daih^  task. 

"And  they  met  Moses  and  Aaron  who  stood  in  the  way,  as 
they  came  forth  from  Pharaoh ;  and  they  said  unto  them, 
The  Lord  look  upon  you  and  judge ;  because  j^ou  haye  made 
our  sayour  to  be  abhorred  in  the  eyes  of  Pharaoh,  and  in 
the  eyes  of  his  seryants,  to  put  a  sword  in  their  hands  to 
slay  us.  And  Moses  returned  unto  the  Lord,  and  said.  Lord, 
wherefore  hast  thou  so  eyil  entreated  this  people?  Why  is 
it  that  thou  hast  sent  me?  for  since  I  came  to  Pharaoh  to 
speak  in  their  name,  he  hath  done  eyil  to  this  people ;  neither 
hast  thou  deliyered  thy  people  at  all. 

Then  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  Now  shalt  thou  see  what 


u 


ETOWAH.  205 

I  shall  clo  to  Pharaoh ;  for  with  a  strong  hand  he  shall  let 
them  go,  and  with  a  strong  hand  shall  he  drive  them  out  of 
his  land.  And  God  spake  unto  Moses,  and  said  unto  him, 
I  am  the  Lord;  and  I  appeared  unto  Abraham,  unto  Isaac, 
and  unto  Jacob,  by  the  name  of  God  Almighty  known  to 
them.  And  I  have  also  established  my  covenant  with 
them,  to  give  to  them  the  land  of  Canaan."  (Here  old  Bar- 
ney paused  to  see  that  Hallback  was  listening,  and  repeated 
slowly,  "to  give  to  them  the  land  of  Canaan,^^)  the  land  of  their 
pilgrimage,  wherein  they  were  strangers.  And  I  have  also 
heard  the  groaning  of  the  children  of  Israel,  whom  the  Egypt- 
ians keep  in  bondage ;  and  I  have  remembered  my  covenant. 
Wherefore  sav  unto  the  children  of  Israel,  I  am  the  Lord,  and 
I  will  bring  you  out  from  under  the  burdens  of  the  Egypt- 
ians, and  I  will  rid  you  out  of  their  bondage,  and  I  will  re- 
deem you  with  a  stretched-out  arm,  and  with  great  judg- 
ments ;  and  I  will  take  you  unto  me  for  a  people,  and  I  will 
be  to  vou  a  God  ;  and  ve  shall  know  that  I  am  the  Lord  vour 
God,  which  bringeth  you  out  from  under  the  burdens  of  the 
Egyptians.  And  I  will  bring  you  into  the  land,  concerning 
thee,  which  I  did  swear  to  give  it  to  Abraham,  to  Isaac,  and 
to  Jacob;  and  I  will  give  you  for  an  heritage ;  I  am  the  Lord. 
And  Moses  spake  so  unto  the  children  of  Israel ;  but  they 
hearkened  not  unto  Moses  for  anguish  of  spirit,  and  for  cru- 
el bondage.  And  the  Lord  spake  unto  Moses,  saying.  Go  in, 
speak  unto  Pharaoh,  king  of  Egypt,  that  he  let  the  children 
of  Israel  go  out  of  this  land.  And  Moses  spake  before  the 
Lord,  saying,  Behold  the  children  of  Israel  have  not  heark- 
ened unto  me;  how  then  shall  Pharaoh  hear?  And  the  Lord 
spake  unto  Moses,  and  unto  Aaron,  and  gave  them  a  charge 
unto  the  children  of  Israel,  and  unto  Pharaoh,  king  of  Egypt,, 
to  bring  the  children  of  Israel  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt." 


206 


ETOWAH. 


He  ceased  reading,  closed  the  Bible  and  turned  toward 
Hallback,  who  had  listened  attentively,  and  had  been  evi- 
dently  impressed. 

"Well?"  said  Hallback. 

'-  Do  yon  not  see  how  powerless  we  are,  and  that  we  are  as 
little  birds  in  the  hands  of  Him  ?  "  said  Barnev,  with  hands 
uplifted,  while  his  eyes  sought  those  of  his  visitor. 

"  I  don't  know,  Uncle  Barney ;  I  don't  know  anything 
about  the  hereafter.  It  is  the  ever-living  present— the  pres- 
ent, which  sees  m}^  race  doomed  to  servitude  forever,  that  op- 
presses me  all  the  time." 

"Then  learn  to  know,  my  son;  to  helwve  is  to  know.  We 
are  powerless.  For  generations  niggers  have  been  slaves  in 
this  country.  The  few  free  niggers  we  have  among  us  are  no 
hap]3ier  than  we  are.  There  is  Bill  Baxter,  who  owns  other 
niggers ;  he  is  not  as  happy  as  I  am,  and  most  ginnerally 
free  negroes  are  of  no  account." 

"  Oh,  uncle  Barney,  you  are  not  like  the  rest  of  us.  Every- 
body respects  you,  even  Mr.  Washburn.  You  don't  know 
what  it  is." 

Taking  off  his  coat,  then  his  shirt,  the  old  man  showed  his 
muscular  torso,  and  there,  on  his  bare  back,  were  the  scars 
inflicted  years  before  by  a  brutal  overseer's  hand.  Upon  his 
broad  breast  were  two  wounds  which  seemed  to  have  been 
inflicted  by  the  knife.  And  now  the  old  negro's  self-posses- 
sion seemed  to  fail  him,  for  his  breast  heaved  with  terrible 
excitement  as  memorv  bore  him  back  to  the  davs  of  his 
youth,  when  resistance  produced  almost  fatal  wounds.  Calm- 
ing himself,  he  asked  Hallback : 

"Are  vou  convinced  that  I  do  know  what  it  isf^'' 
"  I  would  never  have  rested  until  I  had  killed  the  man 
who  did  it,"  said  Hallback. 


ETOWAH.  207 

''  Thou  shalt  not  kill.  Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord," 
answered  Barney,  meekly  but  fervently. 

"  Now,  Hallback,  listen  to  me.  Marster's  brother  took  my 
part  when  I  received  these  wounds,  and  lost  his  life  in  de- 
fending me.  Were  he  alive  to-day,  would  it  not  be  my  duty 
to  serve  him  all  my  life  ? 

"George  Washburn  killed  my  nephew  in  cold-blood,  and 
he  claims  now  to  be  the  only  friend  we  poor  niggers  have. 
What  is  my  duty  toward  him  ?  " 

"Kill  him!"  muttered  Hallback. 

"  Hush,  my  son.  Put  away  such  evil  thoughts.  God,  in 
in  his  own  time,  will  punish  him ;  and  you,  will  you  not 
deserve  a  like  fate  if  you  harbor  murder  in  vour  heart?" 

"But  what  are  we  to  do  ?"  replied  Hallback. 

"  Wait,  and  trust  in  the  Lord ;  He  will  provide.  This  war 
is  His  doings,  and  He  will  treat  us  as  He  treated  the  Is- 
raelites." 

"  What,  give  us  the  land  ?" 

"  If  we  deserve  it,  yes ;  all  that  we  need.  But  would  you 
take  Marse  Henrv's  land  awav  from  him,  if  you  could  ?  " 

"  Xo,  I  would  not ;  but  I  would  take  Washburn's,  and 
anybody  else's  land,  except  Marse  Henrv's." 

"  Wait,  and  the  land  will  be  given  to  us." 

"  But,  uncle  Barney,  it  won't  be  given  to  us  unless  we  fight 
for  it,  and  I  have  come  to  tell  you  good-bye.  I  am  going  to 
fight  for  it." 

"  Who  you  gwine  to  fight.  Hall.  ?  " 

"The  rebels." 

"  Who  is  de  rebels  ?" 

"  The  white  folks — the  rebel  army — the — " 

"  Is  yer  gwine  to  shoot  Marse  Henry  ?  " 


208  ETOWAH. 

Hallback  bent  his  head,  and  the  tears  forced  their  way 
through  his  fingers,  and  his  sobs  prevented  an  answer. 

"It  won't  do,  Hall.,  my  son,  for  in  the  absence  of  your 
father  and  mother,  in  heaven,  yon  are  my  son.  I  preach  to 
a  thousand  niggers  like  you  and  me,  and  tell  them  all  what 
I  tell  you,  we  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord,  and  He  will 
provide." 

The  young  negro  man  stood  up  now,  hat  in  hand,  and 
said :  "  Good-bye,  uncle  Barney ;  you  don't  know,  as  I  do. 
what  will  happen  soon." 

"  What  gwine  to  happen,  boy  ?  " 

"  The  rebels  will  force  all  of  us  young  niggers  in  their 
army,  and  we  will  be  shooting  at  our  friends." 

A  twinkle  of  humor  lighted  old  Barney's  eyes  as  he  asked  : 
"  Hall.,  did  you  ever  see  two  dogs  fight  over  a  bone?" 
"Certainly  I  have ;  why  do  you  ask  me  that  question  ?" 
"  Well,  then,  did  you  ever  see  the  bone  fight  f^^ 
A  broad  smile,  followed  by  laughter,  was  Hallback's  an- 
swer as  he  saw  the  force  of  the  old  preacher's  parable,  and  he 
took  his  de^Darture  in  a  better  frame  of  mind  than  he  had 
had  for  a  long  time.     Long  after  Hallback  had  left  the   old 
negro  preacher  continued  to  pray,  though  no  sound  escaped 
his  lips.     He  prayed  now   for  himself — that  this  temptation 
to    yield  to  feelings    of    indignation    and    revenge  should 
be  removed.     His  faith  had  become   greater   as   he   neared 
annuallv  three-score  A^ears  and  ten   allotted  to  man   as   the 
fulness    of  his  years;    and    as  the  Bible  taught  him   that 
God   had   permitted     slavery    and    commanded    obedience 
to  masters,  he  submitted  to  his  lot  as  one  ordained  by  divine 
decree. 

And  so  did  the  ministers  of  the  white  race  teach  their 
flocks,  until  a  whole  people  believed  in  the  righteousness  of 


ETOWAH.  209 

slavery.  Admit  as  we  may,  believe  as  we  do,  that  no  labor- 
ing population  on  earth  had  lighter  burdens,  lived  to  a 
greater  age,  or  increased  in  numbers  so  rapidly,  who  can  deny 
that  the  ambition  which  makes  men  seek  to  rise  in  the  scale 
of  existence  and  civilization  was  denied  to  the  slaves  in  the 
South? 

Per  contra,  from  the  earliest  antiquity  history  dOes  not  re- 
cord as  rapid  advance  in  the  comforts,  and  arts,  and  luxuries 
of  life  among  any  negro  race  as  one  century  of  slavery  in  the 
Southern  States  of  America  had  given  to  the  negro. 

It  was  the  object-lesson  of  humanity  ;  the  technological 
training  which  led  them  by  rapid  strides  from  the  wilderness 
of  the  savage  to  nineteenth-century  civilization.  Doubtless 
many  slaves  possessed  all  the  elements  of  leadership  except 
education ;  and  so  long  as  slavery  existed  it  was  wise  to  denv 
them  that  boon  which  would  have  led  them  to  anarchv. 

Education  to  a  slave  is  a  "  pillar  of  fire  by  night  and  a 
pillar  of  cloud  by  day,"  and  it  is  only  commanding  spirits, 
like  this  venerable  pattern  of  piety,  old  Barney,  which  can 
make  of  this  scythe  a  pruning-hook — apply  to  this  rein  a 
curb  which  shall  restrain  as  it  guides. 

In  the  mind  of  young  Hallback  it  was  a  brand  with  which 
to  light  the  flames  of  discord  until  insurrection,  that  dread 
spectre,  the  fear  of  which  was  used  as  an  inciting  cause  to 
war,  should  take  possession  of  the  minds  of  the  slaves,  as  the 
evil  spirits  entered  into  the  bodies  of  the  swine,  and  lead 
them  to  their  destruction. 

But  the  brotherhood  of  man,  the  kinship  of  humanity- 
the  omnipotence  of  God,  restrained  and  preserved  them,  and 
bade  them  "  wait."  The  homelv  advice  of  old  Barnev,  •'  Let 
the  dogs  fight  over  the  bone,  the  bone  need  not  fight."  was 
sound  philosophv. 

14 


210  ETOWAH. 

By  some  subtle  ineaDS,  yclept  "  the  grape-vine  telegraph'' 
in  the  days  of  the  war,  every  negro  settlement,  every  negro 
in  each  settlement  throughout  that  vast  country,  had  been 
informed  that  the  Northern  people  Avere  fighting  their  mas- 
ters that  they  might  be  freed. 

In  every  plantation  ''Quarters"  were  impatient,  young 
spirits  eager  to  take  part  in  the  fray,  if  they  believed  success 
possible ;  and  there  was,  here  and  there,  scattered  as  if  by 
the  design  of  an  all-seeing  and  an  all-wise  Providence,  a 
Barney  clothed  with  the  wisdom  which  age  gives  to  the 
unlettered  slave  as  to  the  most  cultured  statesman,  whose 
sage  counsels  bade  them  "wait  !" 

In  all  the  South,  amid  four  millions  of  negro  slaves,  with  tens 
of  thousands  of  helpless  white  families  at  their  mercy,  not  one 
insurrection  occurred  during  four  years  of  bloody  war. 

Honor  to  those  slaves  ! 

Honor  to  those  humane  masters,  whose  sympathy  and 
kindness  alone  made  this  remarkable  fact  a  reality. 

Nor  could  volumes  so  impress  the  mind  of  Hallback  with 
the  dangerous  folly  of  following  the  counsels  of  the  murder- 
ous ex-overseer  who  had  never  owned  a  slave,  as  the  illus- 
tration of  the  scars  of  old  Barney,  and  his  simple  recital  of 
the  fact  that  his  young  master  had  given  his  life  in  defence 
of  his  slave,  and  that  that  slave  was  himself. 

He  had  played  with  Henry  Latane  as  a  child,  and  with 
him  quarreled  as  a  child ;  he  had  served  him  as  a  valet  all 
his  life,  and  he  could  not  recall  an  ungenerous  act  on  the 
part  of  the  young  master  to  him.  But  his  spirit  chafed  at 
the  humble  deportment  which  his  condition  exacted  of  him 
as  of  all  slaves. 

He  would  rid  himself  of  that  if  he  could ;  but  the  time 
would  never  come,   he   thought,   when  evil-minded,  sordid 


ETOWAH.  211 

adventurers,  with  no  interest  in  the  slaves  or  in  the  land, 
but  bent  on  their  own  profit  alone,  should  turn  his  hand 
against  those  people  with  whose  life  his  own  had  been 
intertwined.     As  to  the  rest  of  the  white  people,  he  would — 

Latane,  finding  that  his  wounded  limb  was  nearly  well, 
had  thrown  aside  his  crutch  and  now  informed  his  mother 
also  of  his  purpose.  "A  soldier's  place  is  at  the  front, 
mother,  unless  wounds  or  sickness  prevent  him  fi'om  being 
there.     I  shall  return  to  the  army  next  week." 

•'But  your  wound  is  not  entirely  healed  yet,  my  son,  and 
it  seems  to  me  you  have  been  with  me  only  a  day  ;  but  if 
you  think  it  is  your  duty  to  go,  I  will  not  dissuade  you." 

His  arm  was  around  her  waist,  her  head  upon  his  shoul- 
der, as  she  thus  spoke,  vainly  trying  to  keep  back  the  tears 
as  she  made  the  Spartan  resolution  to  do  nothing  to  delay 
his  return. 

This  was  his  first  visit  home  since  he  went  to  Virginia, 
and  she  knew  that  where  he  went  was  to  be  seen,  almost 
daily,  privations — suffering — sudden  death !  A  chance  ball, 
a  skirmish,  a  reconnoissance,  perchance  a  battle  might 
involve  him  any  day,  and  his  life,  she  thought,  was  thus 
rendered  more  brittle  than  glass. 

"That  reply  does  you  honor,  my  mother.  If  I  am  of  any 
value  to  my  country,  I  owe  it  all  to  you.  I  am  already 
weary  of  war,  and  the  boyish  ambition  for  fame  has  already 
departed.  Let  us  hope  that  it  will  soon  end,  and  then  I  can 
prove  my  gratitude  to  the  best  of  mothers  for  life-long  kind- 
ness to  me."  To  change  the  current  of  his  thoughts 
she  said :  "Julia  has  been  slandered  by  those  who  envy 
her   attractions   of  person   and   manner.     Instead  of  being 


212  ETOWAH. 

cold-natiired  and  selfish,  she  is  the  truest,  loveliest  and  best 
girl  I  know." 

"She  is  indeed  a  fine  girl,  mother,  and  has  a  noble  character. 
I  never  knew  but  one  girl  whom  I  admired  more,  and  I 
shall  call  upon  her  to-morrow." 

His  mother  did  not  reply ;  she  would  not  diminish  his 
pleasure  one  iota  during  his  brief  stay  with  her  by  any  un- 
favorable allusion  to  Clara,  whom  she  had  never  known  well. 
Meanwhile,  she  could  not  disguise  her  pleasure  when  any 
remark  of  Henry's  indicated  a  possibility  of  the  realization 
of  her  cherished  dream. 

The  best  of  mothers  forget  that  they  were  once  young. 
Colonel  Leslie's  cold,  formal  courtesv  when  thev  met  bv 
chance,  so  different  from  the  frank,  genial,  cordial  greeting 
of  other  days,  had  banished  all  thoughts  of  Clara  as  a  daugh- 
ter-in-law from  her  mind. 

^'Mother,"  said  Henr}',  "while  I  think  your  preference  for 
Miss  Julia  a  natural  one,  do  you  not  think  that  affection 
guides  a  woman's  mind  and  moulds  her  opinions  ?" 

''I  hope  so,  my  son  ;  I  do  not  admire  strong-minded  wo- 
men," was  the  reply.  In  that  reply  Mrs.  Latane  was  logical. 
It  is  better  that  it  should  be  thus.  A  mother's  love  is  an 
instinct  superior  to  reason  in  ordinary  life,  and  accomplishes 
its  purpose  when  shrewdest  diplomacy  would  fail. 

Again  his  card  is  sent  in  from  the  door  of  the  hospitable 
mansion  at  Thronateeska.  Again  he  is  ushered  in  the  par- 
lor, and  it  is  but  two  days  before  his  departure  for  Virginia. 
Colonel  Leslie,  not  Clara,  responded,  and  his  manner  was 
strangely  formal.  Mrs.  Latane  had  informed  him  of  this 
change  in  Colonel  Leslie's  manner,  but  he,  was  entitled  to 
kinder  treatment  from  any  gentleman  in  his  native  county, 
unless  he  should  prove  to  be  an  enemy. 


ETOWAH.  213 

His  bow,  in  response  to  Colonel  Leslie's  coldly  courteous 
greeting,  was  equally  haughty. 

•"Good  morning.  Captain  Latane  :  how  is  your  mother?" 

••Quite  well,  I  thank  you.  I  hope  Miss  Clara's  indisposi- 
tion was  not  serious." 

''Miss  Clara  is  quite  well,  and  is  absent  from  home,"  was 
the  curt  reply. 

("Absent  from  home!"  thought  Latan^.  "Then  she  does 
not  wish  to  see  me.")  His  lips  curled  a  little  as  he  said:  "I 
am  sorry  she  is  absent ;  I  had  hoped  to  have  seen  her  before 
leaving  home." 

•'Then  you  expect  to  return  to  the  army  soon  ?" 

•'Yes,  sir;  I  will  return  day  after  to-morrow.  I  will  not 
detain  you  longer,  sir.     Good  morning." 

••Good  morning,  Captain  Latane,"  and  then  the  studiously 
formal  old  gentleman  politely  opened  the  door  of  the  hall 
and  dismissed  him  with  a  parting  bow.  Latane,  biting  his 
lip  with  vexation,  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  home  at  a 
rapid  pace.  "He  did  not  even  invite  me  to  call  again,  nor 
did  he  exhibit  the  slightest  interest  in  my  past,  present  or 
future.  I'll  never  cross  that  threshold  again,  so  help  me 
God !"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  dashed  the  spur  in  his  horse. 
"Shall  I,"  he  continued,  "permit  myself  to  be  treated  as  a 
foot-ball  by  those  whom  I  would  have  died  to  serve  ?  Shall 
I  continue  to  worship  as  an  idol  one  to  whom  I  have  de- 
clared my  love,  but  who  seems  unmindful  of  all  that  I  have 
sufifered  for  her  sake  ?  Shall  I  continue  loval  to  her,  when 
she  is  not  only  free,  but  will  be  better  pleased  never  to  see  me 
again  ?  No,  a  thousand  times,  no  !  I  will  not  lavish  on 
any  human  being  a  love  which  has  been  unrequited  once. 
Romance,  begone,  and  sentiment  with  it!  Reason  hence- 
forth shall  govern  impulse. 


214  ETOWAH. 

"I  have  been  a  child  in  my  love  for  Clara  Leslie,  yet  the 
sweetest  thoughts  of  my  life  will  revert  to  her  as  she  was. 
I'll  be  a  man  henceforth  in  love  as  in  other  things — cold, 
determined,  unrelenting,  as  is  her  flint-hearted  father !  But  is 
she  changed  in  nature  ?  Does  she  endorse  this  unaccounta- 
ble conduct  of  her  father  ?  It  matters  not ;  I  must  see  things 
as  they  are.  The  dream  is  over.  Now  for  fame  !  it  is  all 
that  is  left." 

Yet  it  is  the  love  of  woman  that  nerves  a  man  to  battle  for 
all  that  humanity  holds  most  dear. 

What  is  one's  country  ?  Is  it  the  air  we  breathe  ?  The 
lovely  colors  in  sky  or  flower  ?  The  riches  hidden  in  mines 
and  quarries?  The  railways,  factories,  buildings  which 
make  commerce? 

No,  it  is  home^  with  all  its  sacred  memories  and  all  its  no- 
blest aspirations. 

How  little  did  he  interpret  Clara  Leslie's  real  feelings,  for 
she,  too,  felt  the  depth  of  disappointment.  Providence  seemed 
determined  to  prevent  her  reconciliation  with  Henry  Latane. 
She  had  gone  to  see  Julia  for  a  few  hours,  and  when  she  re- 
turned, the  servant  informed  her  of  Latane's  brief  visit. 

"It  was  merely  a  call  of  courtesy,  my  child,  to  prevent  an 
open  rupture,  I  think ;  Captain  Latane  will  leave  in  a  few 
days  for  Virginia.  I  am  satisfied  that  he  would  like  to  be 
re-instated  here,  but  I  have  lost  all  confidence  in  him,  or  re- 
spect for  him.  Think  no  more  of  him,  my  daughter,"  said 
Colonel  Leslie. 

"Oh,  father !"  she  exclaimed,  "say  no  more !  I  can't  bear  to 
hear  you  abuse  him.  I  am  sure  you  do  him  great  injustice. 
If  he  is  false,  no  man  is  true,  and  noble,  and  good."  Her 
father's  look  was  one  of  intense  anguish.  He  said  no  more, 
but  took  her  to  his  heart  and   caressed  her  tenderly,    telling 


ETOWAH.  215 

her  that  his  happiness  was  wrapt  up  in  hers.  He  would 
have  given  half  his  fortune  to  have  known  that  Henry  La- 
tane  was  worthy  of  Clara  at  that  moment,  but  he  did  not, 
and  he  would  never  sanction  her  union  with  any  man  capa- 
ble of  deceit  or  treachery. 

If  he  could  have  learned  then  that  Henry  Latane  knew 
nothing  of  the  letter  signed  in  his  name  and  seemingly  in  his 
handwriting,  asking  Clara  to  pardon  his  precipitate  avowal 
and  to  consider  all  that  he  had  said  as  unspoken,  how  dif- 
ferent would  have  been  the  reception  accorded  to  the  re- 
turned soldier!  As  it  was,  Latane's  pride  forbade  any  allu- 
sion to  it,  and  Colonel  Leslie  did  not  deign  to  answer  it. 
Potts  was  playing  a  bold  game,  but  his  position  in  the  post- 
office  had  enabled  him  to  intercept  and  destroy  the  letters 
written  to  Clara  by  Henry  Latane,  all  full  of  the  tenderest 
affection  and  solicitude,  and  he  took  the  risk. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

TRULY    LOYAL. 

Our  worth}^  acquaintances,  Potts  and  Stunner,  are  again 
conversing  in  the  handsome  front  office  of  the  latter ;  but  on 
this  occasion  Potts  seems  obsequious  and  Stunner  indifferent. 

"Now,  Stunner,"  said  Potts,  "I  don't  like  the  way  you  are 
treating  me  about  this  blockade-running  business ;  I  ought  to 
have  a  hand  in  it.  You  have  used  mv  monev  for  three 
years  to  bolster  up  your  business,  and  now  when  you  get 
hold  of  the  biggest  deal  of  the  age  you  leave  me  out." 

Stunner  put  his  hands  in  his  pantaloons  pockets,  placed 
his  feet  on  the  table,  looked  through  the  plate-glass  windows 
on  the  holiday  crowds  that  thronged  the  streets  and — whis- 
tled. 

Nothing  is  more  exasperating  to  a  man  urgently  bent  on 
transacting  business  quickly,  ''before  the  iron  gets  cold,"  than 
such  treatment  as  this.  No  word  in  the  language  can  ex- 
press exactly  what  this  "whistle"  did  just  at  that  time. 

A  silence  of  several  minutes  ensued,  when  Potts  arose  as  if 
to  go,  and  said,  "Well,  dog-gone  it!  how  much  will  you  take 
for  an  interest?" 

"Oh !  my  dear  sir,  my  very  dear  sir,"  said  Stunner,  leaping 
to  his  feet  with  alacrity  and  grasping  Potts'  hand  cordially, 
"Now,  my  friend,  you  are  talking.  Don't  beat  around  the 
bushes,  Potts,  but  come  down  to  'business.'  andvou'll  alwavs 
find  me  there." 

At  this  juncture  an  old  gentleman  approached  the  office 
counter,  whose  grave  face  and  dignified  demeanor  at  once  arrest- 


ETOWAH.  217 

ed  Stunner's  attention  and  made  a  change  in  his  manner  and 
deportment  wonderful  to  behold.  Taking  his  silk  hat  of! 
and  bowing  profoundly,  Stunner  said  in  the  blandest  tones 
in  the  world  :  "Good  morning,  Judge  Bearing ;  I  feel  honored, 
sir,  by  your  visit,  walk  around,  sir,  and  be  seated  by  the  fire." 

But  all  this  mannerism  was  lost  upon  the  old  jurist,  whose 
simj^licity  of  manner  and  honest  gentlemanliness  and  di- 
rect methods  always  disconcerted  Stunner. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Stunner?"  asked  the  Judge. 

•'It  is,  sir.     J.  B.  Stunner,  at  your  service." 

"Well,  Mr.  Stunner,  I  have  called  to  say  that  I  don't  wish 
to  have  any  further  dealings  with  you  if  what  I  have  heard 
is  true." 

•'Indeed,  sir!"  with  a  look  of  honest  surprise,  "and  who 
has  been  slandering  me,  sir?" 

•'No  one,  I  think.     I  think  the  charge  is  true." 

•'Indeed,  sir !  and  what  is  the  charge?" 

■'Did  you  not  lend  a  poor  widow  five  hundred  dollars  at 
six  per  cent,  per  annum  interest,  payable  in  gold,  and  make 
the  note  and  interest  payable  to  me?" 

"I  did,  sir;  that  is  my  business." 
What  were  the  conditions  of  the  loan  ?" 
Her  property  was  worth   five   thousand  dollars,  and   I 
charged  her  five  per  cent,  commission  for  negotiating   the 
loan." 

••  Did  you  charge  five  per  cent,  commission  on  the  five  hun- 
dred dollars  loaned,  or  on  the  value  of  the  property  ?" 

Stunner  did  not  hesitate  a  second,  for  he  knew  that  the 
judge  must  have  investigated  the  transaction,  and  that  he 
might  as  well  tell  the  truth  at  once,  and  so  he  promptly  an- 
wered  : 

•'On  the  value  of  the  property,  sir." 


218  ETOWAH. 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  charged  and  retained  out  of 
the  five  hundred  dollars  loaned,  five  per  cent,  on  five  thousand 
dollars,  or  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  that  the  loan 
was  for  three  months  only  ?" 

"  That  is  about  the  size  of  it,  sir." 

Potts  was  amazed  to  see  the  once  subservient  Stunner  thus 
defy  the  most  learned  and  respected  jurist  in  the  State,  for 
Stunner's  thumbs  were  now  in  his  vest  and  he  stood  in  the 
most  contemptuous  manner  before  the  good,  kindly  old  man 
who  was  universally  respected. 

''Very  well,  sir,"  responded  the  judge  severely  ;  "have  my 
account  posted  and  forwarded  at  once ;  any  letters  from  you 
hereafter  will  be  returned  unopened." 

As  the  indignant  old  gentleman  left  the  office.  Potts  arose 
and  said  to  his  partner:  "Stunner,  what  on  earth  do  you 
mean  by  snubbing  the  best  client  I  have  in  that  way  for  ?" 

"Is  he   your  client ;  then  why  did   not  he  speak  to  you  ?" 

"  Oh !  he  does  not  know  me  personally,  or  even  by  sight; 
but  the  money  I  have  sent  you  for  investment  on  our  joint 
account  was  loaned  by  him  to  my  father,  who  has  for  a  long 
time  handled  Judge  Dearing's  money  as  a  borrower,  giving 
him  good  collateral  security.  Now  we  can't  get  any  more  of 
it." 

"  I  don't  wish  any  more  of  it,"  replied  Stunner.  "  If  he  had 
not  come  at  me  in  that  way  I  intended  to  propose  a 
much  larger  and  safer  investment,  but  he  has  kicked  the 
bucket  over  now  and  the  milk  is  all  gone.  Judge  Dearing  is 
just  too  good  for  this  wicked  world,  that  is  all!" 

They  were  alone  in  the  office  during  this  scene,  the  female 
clerks  and  the  old  book-keeper  having  been  released  for  the 
holiday. 


ETOWAH.  219 

"Well,  what  will  vou  take  for  a  half  interest?"  said  Potts, 
resuming  his  negotiations  with  Stunner. 

"For  a  what '."said  Stunner,  with  a  surprised  air. 

"  A  half  interest  in  your  blockade-running  business,"  said 
Potts.  "  I  have  seen  for  several  months  that  you  are  losing 
interest  in  our  business  here,  and  that  can  onlv  mean  that 
you  are  making  more  money  at  something  else." 

"Correct,"  sententiously  replied  Stunner. 

"Then  what  will  vou  take?"  resumed  Potts. 

"  Ten  thousand  dollars  in  gold,  caBh  down,  for  a  fifth  interest 
is  the  least  dollar  that  I  will  consider. 

"  What !"  said  Potts  in  disgust.  "Come  now,  Stunner,  that 
is  not  toting  fair;  what  would  you  have  done  in  the  past 
without  my  aid?" 

"  There  are  a  sight  of  things  that  I  would  not  have  done  but 
for  your  aid !"  said  Stunner,  "and  getting  money  from  that 
honest  old  fool,  Judge  Dearing,  who  won't  take  a  good  thing 
when  he  sees  it  ofiered  to  him,  is  one  of  them.  I  have  bigger 
game  than  he  is  working  with  me." 

Potts'  interest  increased  at  this  announcement  as  he  lean- 
ed forward  and  said : 

"  Who  are  they?     Is  old one  of  them,  Stunner?"    He 

had  spoken  in  a  whisper  when   he   named  the  individual 
referred  to.     Stunner  answered  quietly : 

"He  is,  and  he  and  I  go  halves." 

"  One-fifth  of  the  whole  profits  for  ten  thousand  dollars  cash 
is  your  ofier,  is  it?  I  will  bank  on  that  man's  judg7?im^  al- 
ways.    And  he  has  the  power,  too!" 

"One-fifth  of  my  half  for  ten  thousand,  cash  down,  is  my 
offer,  pard;  and  not  a  cent  less  will  let  you  in,"  answered 
Stunner. 

In  truth  he  had  just  offered  the  interest  for  one-half  the 


220  ETOWAH. 

sum  he  now  insisted  on,  but  he  saw  that  Potts,  convinced  by 
the  magic  of  the  participation  of  the  great  politician  named, 
would  accept  the  offer,  and  he  was  right,  for  Potts  at  once 
closed  with  Stunner  and  was  now  "in." 

The  State,  the  city,  the  village — everywhere  in  Republican 
America  is  dominated  by  "the  ring."  If  you  are  "in,"  profits 
come  in  troops;  if  you  are  "out,"  intellect  and  genius  walk  on 
the  pavement,  while  mediocrity,  with  gilded  conscience  and 
vulgar  display,  rides  by  in  the  chariot. 

Potts  thus  construed  it,  at  any  rate,  and  thus  early  gave  in 
his  adhesion  to  the  "ins." 

"Now,  Stunner,"  said  Potts,  "it  was  only  last  week  that 
an  order  was  received  by  the  Commandant  of  the  Post  at 
Etowah,  instructing  him  to  let  a  steamer  pass  down  the  river 
to  the  Gulf  and  thence  to  Liverpool  if  it  got  safely  through 
the  Federal  gun-boats  stationed  at  the  mouth  of  the  river." 
I  know  all  about  it,"  said  Stunner. 

Why  did  not  this  steamer,  loaded  with  cotton,  belonging 
to  the  State,  proceed?"  asked  Potts. 

"Because  the  Commandant  of  the  Post  there  is  like  our 

friend.    Judge    Bearing — a fool!"    responded     Stunner. 

"Have  a  cigar.  Potts?"  All  his  former  amiability  had  returned 
now,  since  the  trade  had  been  consummated,  and  the  manner 
of  the  two  was  like  that  of  bosom-friends. 

"You  see,"  Stunner  continued,  "the  militarv  commander 
of  the  district  had  given  orders  that  no  steamer  loaded  with 
cotton  should  be  allowed  to  go  down  to  the  gulf." 

"Why  was  that  order  passed?"  asked  Potts. 

"  Because  it  was  asserted  by  some  'smart  Alecks"  who 
could  not  get  'in"  that  if  a  steamer  got  through  safely  to 
Liverpool,  it  was  received  there  as  the  cotton  belonging  to  J. 
B.  Stunner  &  Co.,  whereas  if  the  steamer  was  captured  or  lost 


ETOWAH.  221 

the  cargo  was  invariably  declared  to  belong  to  the  Govern- 
ment.    See?" 

•'Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  Potts,  "and  is  it  true?  Does,  it 
happen  so?" 

''You  bet  your  sweet  life!"  was  Stunner's  answer. 

A  few  days  later  Potts  decided  to  renew  his  visits  at  Tbro- 
nateeska,  for  his  spirits  rose  as  the  fortunes  of  the  Confeder- 
acy seemed  to  decline.  If  the  Confederacy  failed  he  would 
be  the  wealthiest  young  man  in  the  county. 

"Why  are  you  so  sad,  Clara?  "  said  -Julia  to  her  the  day 
when  Mr.  Potts  decided  to  make  the  all-important  visit. 
"  Mr.  Barnum  still  lives  and  you  are  sure  of  his  affections." 

"  You  are  mistaken  in  your  surmise,  Julia;  Mr.  Barnum 
has  been  absent  nearly  three  years  and  we  have  had  no  cor- 
respondence whatever." 

Though  it  was  difficult  to  get  letters  "through  the  lines,  " 
it  was  often  done,  and  this  information  surprised  Julia. 

"  Then  I  am  mistaken,  and,  have  unintentionally  mi-led 
one  of  your  former  friends,  "  said  Julia.  "  You  are  not 
engaged  to  Mr.  Barnum,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  not  engaged  to  Mr.  Barnum  ;  what  put  such  an 
idea  into  your  head?     To  whom  do  you  refer?  " 

"I  refer  to  Captain  Latane,  and  I  told  him  before  he  re- 
turned to  the  army  that  I  had  no  doubt  of  it  ?"  "  Why,  Clara, 
what  is  the  matter,  my  dear?  " 

Clara's  agitation  was  too  great  to  be  concealed  longer,  and 
she  could  only  say — "  How  cruel !  how  could  you  do  it, 
Julia?" 

"Why,  my  dear,  I  bad  no  idea  that  you  were  interested  in 
Captain  Latane,  but  it  is  all  clear  to  me  now.  His  embar- 
rassment and  your's  on  that  morning  when  we  met  you 
riding  before  breakfast  should    have   opened  my  eyes,  but 


222  ETOWAH. 

really,  Clara,  I  did  not  know  that  I  was  unkind — I  did  not 
mean  to  be." 

Clara  had  regained  control  over  her  feelings  and  now 
sought  to  remove  the  impression  her  embarrassment  had 
created,  for  she  did  not  know  positively  that  Latane  still 
loved  her,  and  she  could  not  persuade  herself  to  make  her 
cousin  her  confidante  under  the  circumstances.  Besides, 
she  had  every  reason  to  suppose  that  Julia  was  not  indifier- 
ent  to  his  attentions.  Rallying,  therefore,  from  her  embar- 
rassment she  said,  "  What  a  pity  it  is  that  Captain  Latane 
was  captured.  If  I  knew  what  prison  he  was  confined  in,  I 
should  feel  tempted  to  write  to  Mr.  Barnum  to  go  and  unde- 
ceive him.  Jesting  aside,  Julia,  I  did  not  even  meet  Cap- 
tain Latane  during  his  visit  home." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  I  have  done  no  harm,"  replied  Julia; 
"  I  thought  from  your  remark  that  I  had  committed  the  un- 
pardonable sin.  Confess  now  that  it  is  not  your  fault  that 
you  are  not  engaged  to  Mr.  Barnum— I  would  not  be  sur- 
prised if  you  had  a  like  opportunity  with  Captain  Latane.  " 

"  That  would  be  high  treason,  Julia.  " 

"  Of  course  it  would,  my  dear,  and  I  did  not  mean  for  you 
to  betray  their  secrets.  I  only  wished  to  restore  my  equa- 
nimity by  putting  you  on  the  defensive.  See  what  a  diplo- 
mat I  am.  " 

"  Indeed,  you  are,  Julia,  and  I  feel  inclined  to  ask  you  sim- 
ilar impertinent  questions  about  both  Major  Blount  and 
Captain  Latane.  You  are  very  selfish  in  permitting  that 
gallant  major  to  go  away  without  giving  me  an  opportunity 
to  "cut  you  out,"  as  the  phrase  is.  " 

Then  changing  her  tone  she  said,  "Is  not  the  ingenuity 
of  Mr.  Potts  in  devising  ways  and  means  to  keep  out  of  the 
army  remarkable  ?    No  taunts  or  sneers  can  drive  him  into 


ETOWAH.  223 

it."     And  ill  truth    nothing  that  Clara  could  do  wouUbe 
taken  as  a  rebuff  by  this  persistent  suitor. 

"  It  is  indeed  remarkable,  said  Julia;  and  I  have  a  curi- 
osity to  meet  him.  He  seems  to  be  quite  a  character.  "By 
the  way,  Julia,  did  you  know  that  Bruton  Stewart 
has  been  promoted  for  distinguished  gallantry  on  the  battle 
field  on  the  12th  of  May  ?  It  seems  so  fanny  that  Bruton 
Stewart  should  be  a  Brigadier-general.  " 

Had  Clara  been  less  absorbed  in  her  own  reflections  she 
could  not  have  failed  to  notice  the  quick  flush  which  man- 
tled Julia's  chesks,  as  she  answered  : 

"  Yes,  I  read  it  in  the  newspaper,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that 
he  has  won  it  bravely.  " 

But  not  by  word  or  letter,  or  by  any  indication 
whatever,  did  Bruton  Stewart  evince  that  Julia  Dearing  held 
any  place  in  his  heart  or  mind.  To  conceal  her  embarrass- 
ment at  the  unexpected  allusion  to  him,  therefore,  she  arose 
and  left  the  sitting-room. 

Just  as  she  arose  to  leave,  a  ring  at  the  door-bell  announced 
a  visitor.  The  servant  handed  to  Clara  a  card  bearing  the 
name  of  Wellington  N.  Potts.  On  some  of  his  cards  was 
written  the  name  of  W.  Napoleon  Potts;  other  cards 
contained  the  simple  W.  N.  Potts,  used  in  his  commercial 
correspondence.  But  in  his  social  visits  he  always  carried 
cards  which  bore  the  name  of  "Wellington"  or  "Napoleon, " 
or  both. 

"  Do  stay,  Julia,  and  help  me  to  entertain  him,  "  pleaded 
Clara. 

"  Thanks;  I  am  much  obliged,  I  am  sure,  but  he  did  not 
call  to  see  me ;  I  will  go  into  the  library  and  read  "  Macaria" 
until  he  retires,  "  answered  Julia. 

After  a  few   commonplace  remarks,  Potts  said :     "  Well, 


224  ETOWAH. 

Miss  Clara,  I  have  got  away  from  that  abominable  post-office 
and  am  a  free  man  once  more;  will  you  go  to  ride  with 
me  to-morrow  ?     I  have  but  a  few  davs  of  leisure  left.' 

"Then  you  are  going  into  the  army,  are  you?  I  am  not 
surprised.  I  don't  see  how  any  man  can  keep  from  going  to 
Richmond  now,  and  aiding  to  hurl  back  the  immense  army 
collected  at  its  front." 

"I  must  answer  you  in  the  language  of  a  soldier  w^hose 
flight  General  Lee  sought  to  arrest,  and  then  to  induce  him 
to  return  to  the  front  as  he  was  leaving  the  battle-field  in  the 
last  battle.  The  General  said :  "Go  back,  my  friend ;  remem- 
ber your  home,  your  wife  and  your  children ;  go  back  and 
fight  for  your  country." 

"Well,  what  did  he  say?"  interrupted  Clara,  as  Potts  hesi- 
tated. 

"He  answered:  T've  been  thar,  Gineral,  and  HainH  no 
fitten  place  for  nobody  P  and  that's  the  way  I  feel  about  it." 

In  spite  of  her  contempt  for  the  sentiment  thus  expressed, 
Clara  could  not  refrain  from  smiling.  Emboldened  by  this, 
he  continued:  "Miss  Clara,  you  know  I  am  not  sympathetic 
with  this  war,  or,  in  truth,  with  any  war.  'Thou  shalt  not 
kill,'  is  the  divine  command.  War  is  murder,  and  I  am 
determined  to  keep  out  of  it  as  long  as  I  can." 

"How  do  you  propose  to  do  it?"  asked  Clara. 

In  spite  of  her  antipathy  to  him,  she  was  entertained  by 
his  argumentative  way  of  expressing  himself. 

"The  Confederate  Congress,"  he  answered,  "has  passed  a 
law  exempting  from  military  service  manufactun^rs,  cap- 
tains of  steamboats,  and  managers  of  a  certain  number  of 
slaves.  That  law  will  whip  the  Confederacy,  and  save  me 
from  the  trouble  and  danger  of  enlisting.     There  is  a  little 


ETOWAH.  225 


boat  on  the  river  called  the  Swan ;  it  is  no  longer  than  a 
''dory,"  as  they  call  the  little  boats  off  the  Maine  coast. 
Some  one  has  put  an  engine  on  it,  and  I  tried  to  get  the 
captaincy  of  the  craft,  but  John  Hefflin  was  too  sharp  for 


me." 


"I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Clara,  laughing  in  spite  of  her- 
self, "  and  I  hope  the  conscript  officers  will  get  you  yet." 

"Conscript  Fathers !  Why  Miss  Clara,  what  have  I  done 
that  you  should  wish  to  consign  me  to  'glory  or  the  grave,' 
as  the  poets  express  it?" 

"It  is  not  what  you  have  done,  but  what  you  have  not 
done,  she  replied.     But  why  argue  the  matter?" 

"That  is  not  my  object;  I  wish  to  be  of  service  to  you  if  I 


can." 


He  then  alluded  to  President  Lincoln's  Emancipation 
Proclamation,  in  which  the  President  of  the  United  States 
promised  that  he  would  recommend  that  all  citizens  who 
shall  have  remained  loyal  to  the  United  States  during  the 
war,  should  be  compensated  for  all  losses,  including  the  loss 
of  slaves. 

"Well,"  said  Clara,  "it  is  nearly  two  years  since  that  procla- 
mation was  issued,  and  I  have  not  heard  of  a  single  slave 
who  has  availed  himself  of  the  privileges  offered.  With 
thirteen  hundred  thousand  men  in  the  field  against  us,  they 
have  not  only  failed  to  overcome  us,  but  they  have  utterly 
failed  to  produce  servile  insurrection,  which  that  proclama- 
tion was  designed  to  effect.  They  have  passed  laws  confisca- 
ting the  property  of  "rebels,"  and  yet  I  don't  see  that  any- 
body owns  less  property." 

To  the  mind  of  an  ordinarily  appreciative  man,  it  was 
folly  to  argue  thus  with  a  young  lady  who  had  aided  to  cut 
up  carpets  in  her  own  home  to  serve  for  blankets  for  soldiers. 


15 


226  ETOWAH. 

A  generous  man,  even  though  an  enemy,  would  have  appre- 
ciated the  sterling  virtues  which  the  trials  of  war  developed 
among  the  people,  especially  in  the  characters  of  the  women. 

These  delicately  reared  young  ladies,  accustomed  all  their 
lives  to  every  luxury  which  wealth  and  culture  can  give, 
were  to  be  seen  in  the  forenoon  sewing  coarse  garments  for 
unknown  soldiers  to  wear;  and  at  night  the}^  often  partici- 
pated in  public  concerts  that  money  might  be  provided  for 
hospital  purposes.  But  Potts  was  not  a  generous  man,  an(J 
he  despised  a  gentleman,  and  all  that  that  word  implies, 
more  than  any  other  product  of  civilization. 

''  You  may  not  know  it,  Miss  Clara,"  said  he,  "  but  there 
are  at  this  moment  seventy  thousand  negroes  employed  in 
the  Union  armies,  nearly  thirty  thousand  of  whom  are 
bearing  arms  in  the  field." 

"  Yes,  I  read  the  statement  in  a  Massachusetts  paper  sent 
to  papa  recently.  It  stated  further  that  there  are  fifty 
thousand  blacks  between  Memphis  and  Natchez,  from  among 
whom  have  been  culled  all  the  able-boditd  men  for  miiitarv 
service.  What  was  the  result?  The  writer  stated  that  hist 
w  inter  he  buried,  at  Memphis  alone,  out  of  an  average  of 
about  four  thousand  of  these  deluded  and  helpless  creatuies 
twelve  hundred,  cr  twelve  a  day.  In  all  your  life,  have 
you  ever  heard  of  such  mortality  among  negroes  under 
Southern  masters?  Such  results  prove  to  ihem,  better  than 
all  the  arguments  in  the  world,  thattheir  best  friends,  those 
who  are  most  in  sympathy  with  their  feelings,  are  the 
people  with  whom  they  were  reared.  What  interest  can  a 
stranger  feel  who  lives  a  thousand  milesdistant,  and  who 
enlisted  to  defend  the  Union,  not  to  liberate  slaves — what 
interest  can  he  feel  in  the  sufferings  of  this  dependent 
race? 


ETOWAH.  227 

''How  do  you  account  for  the  fact  that  we  have  no  appre- 
hensions of  danger  from  our  negro  slaves?  How  can  the 
spirit  of  patriotism  be  implanted  in  the  breasts  of  men,  who 
have  left  their  homes  and  crossed  the  seas  and  become  en- 
listed soldiers  in  six  months  after  their  arrival  on  foreign 
shores?  Our  soldiers  are  fighting  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
foreigners,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  every  Southern  man  to  go 
to  the  front." 

"  Well,  they  won't  get  me  this  time.  I  have  assumed  the 
place  of  SLiperiatendent  of  the  factory,  and  made  our  former 
superintendent,  who  is  sixty-five  years  old,  and,  therefore,  is 
exempt,  take  my  place  as  book-keeper." 

She  despised  him,  and  yet  his  bold  avowal  that  he  was 
not  sympathetic  with  the  Southern  cause  was  the  only 
thing  which  had  ever  inspired  a  particle  of  respect  for  this 
seeker  after  bomb-proof  places. 

"  You  know,"  resumed  Potts,  "that  slavery  has  been  abol- 
ished, in  the  District  of  Columbia  at  any  rate,  by  Act  of  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States,  and  all  loyal  owners  in  Wash- 
ington City  are  allowed  ninety  days  to  prepare  and  present 
to  Commissioners  appointed  for  the  purpose,  the  names,  ages 
and  personal  description  of  their  slaves.  Now,  I  think  a 
good  price  may  be  obtained  for  all  your  father's  slaves  if  he 
will  join  my  father  and  proclaim  his  loyalty  at  once.  Tl  e 
war  is  going  against  the  South,  and " 

His  further  speech  was  interrupted  by  the  indignant  girl, 
who,  rising  as  she  spoke,  said  :  "  Good  Heavens !  Mr.  Potts, 
are  you  in  earnest?  Do  you  mean  what  you  say,  or  are  you 
merely  advancing  an  argument  which,  if  'twas  sincerely 
spoken,  will  make  you  a  stranger  to  this  house  at  least?" 

Potts  hesitated.  This  was  the  only  home  which  he  vis- 
ited, and  he  did  not  pretend  to  like  any  other  society  than 


228  ETOWAH. 

Clara's.     If  he  had  possessed  real  candor  or  manly  courage, 

he  might  have  made  a  vast  stride  in  Clara's  good  graces  by 

adhering  firmly  to  his  assertion.     But  he  continued : 

"  Let  us  change  the  subject,  Miss  Clara,  for  I  see  that  a 

little  argument  on  my  side  of  the  question  offends  if  it  can't 

be  met. 

'  When  a  woman  wills,  she  will,  you  may  depend  on  it; 
When  she  won't,  she  won't,  and  there's  an  end  on  it.'  " 

"Mr.  Potts,  I  never  wish  to  hear  any  more  'arguments' 
of  this  nature.  Do  you  not  consider  yourself  a  Southerner 
and  loyal  to  this  State?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  said,  yawning,  with  well-simulated  indiffer- 
ence, "  by  birth  and  rearing,  but  in  everything  else  I  am  a 
New  Englander." 

"Then  why  do  you  own  slaves?  I  believe  your  father 
has  been,  and  is,  a  very  extensive  slave-owner,  although  he 
is  a  native  of  New  England.  Why  don't  he  emancipate 
them  immediately,  without  any  reference  to  what  any  gov- 
ernment may  do?" 

"  Oh  !  that's  another  matter.  Hypocrites  pretend  to  be  an- 
imated by  patriotism,  allegiiince  to  the  State,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  A  New  Englander  is  superior  to  sentimental 
notions.  We  are  a  practical  people.  '  Nothing  succeeds 
like  success,'  is  our  motto.  Look  around  you,  and  you  will 
find  that  Northern  men  take  the  lead  in  industrial  enter- 
prises at  the  South,  while  your  leading  men  turn  politicians. 
Now  it  is  all  very  well  for  impulsive  young  cut-throats,  like 
your  friend  Latane,  to  go  and  get  killed  or  wounded  in  or- 
der to  have  his  name  in  the  papers  and  be  lauded  as  a  hero 
for  a  few  days.  In  a  short  time  all  these  men  whom  you 
call '  noble  patriots '  will  be  forgotten,  while  we,  who  stay  at 
home  and  make  money  will  buy  them  out — lock,  stock  and 


ETOWAH. 


229 


barrel— after  the  war,  and  hire  them,  to  boot !  We  intend  to 
S"ll  our  negroes  as  fast  as  possible — are  doing  it  now. 
Father  sold  a  splendid  hand,  the  likeliest  young  man  we 
owned,  yesterday  at  auction.  I  don't  intend  to  have  a  lot 
of  negroes  to  support  after  the  war  has  freed  them  !  I  am 
going  to  feather  my  nest  while  I  can.  If  I  can't  free  them, 
and  get  paid  for  it,  1  will  sell  them." 

CUrj,  under  that  quiet  exterior,  was  trembling  with  in- 
dignation. Deceived  by  her  silence  into  thinking  that  she 
was  beginning  to  be  imbued  with  his  own  penurious  ideas, 
he  hoped  by  this  candid  statement  to  pave  the  way  for  a 
new  declaration,  bused  upon  her  hopes  of  certain  security 
in  the  future,  it  mattered  not  how  the  war  might  terminate. 
Her  reply  wa^  as  sudden  and  impetuous  as  a  storm  in  sum- 
mer. 

She  arose  from  her  seat,  and  said  in  measured,  but  de- 
cided tones  :  ''  Mr.  Potts,  you  forget  yourself!  Not  content 
with  seeking  a  bomb-proof  place,  you  abuse  the  privilege  of 
a  welcome  extended  to  you  by  my  too-credulous  father  to 
insult  our  gallant  soldiers,  who  think  wealth  and  luxury  and 
the  brightest  promise  of  the  future  nothing  in  comparison 
to  the  preservation  of  the  rights  of  their  native  land. 
Young  men  with  ten  times  your  wealth  or  your  father's 
have  entered  the  army,  most  of  them  as  private  soldiers, 
which  disproves  your  assertion  that  a  mere  thirst  for  fame 
actuate?  them,  or  that  self-interest  is  the  ruling  motor  in 
human  aflfairs.  If  such  are  your  sentiments  I  am  glad  you 
do  not  consider  yourself  a  Southerner.  I  do  not  know  what 
may  be  the  result  of  this  war,  but  I  do  know  that  Southern 
slave-holders  will  not  desert  their  slaves  when  they  are  most 
needed  by  them.  I  do  know  that  the  man  who  sells  his 
slaves  at  auction  has  never  been  recognized  as  an  acceptable 


230  ETOWAH. 

member  of  good  society,  and  that  he  who  sells  them  now,  in 
face  of  their  wonderful  fidelity  to  their  masters  and  their  de- 
pendent families  left  with  no  other  protectors,  is  unworthy  of 
recognition!  Let  the  future  be  whit  it  may,  our  people 
will  never  dishonor  themselves  by  honoring  those  who  are 
recreant  to  their  duty  now." 

"  What's  all  this  about?"  said  Julia  Dealing,  appearing  at 
the  door. 

Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  was  at  this  moment  the  im- 
personation of  the  scathing  criticism  of  him  made  on  a 
former  occasion  by  Henry  Latane.  He  seemed  to  conform 
to  the  estimate  placed  upon  his  character  by  the  young  ladv 
whose  eyes  were  flashing  with  indignation.  Julia's  appear-^ 
ance  upon  the  scene  just  at  this  moment  was  welcomed  by 
Potts,  although  it  sent  a  blush  of  shame  to  his  cheeks — a 
blush  which  had  rarely  invaded  his  iron-clad  effrontery  be- 
fore. If  he  had  felt  overwhelmed  before,  the  reader  can 
imagine  the  depth  of  his  humiliation  when  Clara,  her 
lips  curling  with  contempt,  introduced  him  as  follows: 
"  Miss  Bearing,  let  me  make  you  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Wellington  Napoleon  Potts,  whose  name  (emphasizing  the 
last  word)  recalls  two  of  the  grandest  military  heroes  of  the 
world's  history." 

Julia,  who  was  somewhat  given  to  slang,  thought  : 
"  Well,  here's  richness  to  be  sure,"  and  gave  him  a  curtsy, 
which  Napoleon  himself  might  have  received  with  feelings 
of  gratification.     Interpreting  the  situation,  she  said : 

"Well,  what's  the  row?" 

'' Miss  Clara  is  mad  with  me,"  said  Potts  in  an  injured 
tone. 

Clara  turned  to  Julia,  as  if  to  ignore  his  presence,  and  said  : 


ETOWAH.  231 

'■'■  Have  you  called  for  me  to  go  with  you  ?  I'll  be  ready  in 
ten  minutes. " 

"  Yes,  but  neither  of  vou  seem  to  consider  me  of  sufficient 
consequence  to  reply  to  my  question  :     What's  the  row  ?  " 

"  I'll  leave  Mr.  Potts  to  enlightm  you,  "  said  Clara,  leav- 
ing the  parlor. 

Julia  turned  to  him  those  eyes  which  could  be  at 
will  either  an  interrogation  point,  a  searching  catechism, 
a  judicial  dicision,  a  conviction  or  an  acquittal.  This  time 
Julia's  eyes  plainly  asked, ''  What's  the  row  ? " 

As  Julia's  flexible  muscles  gradually  relaxed  into  a  re-as- 
suring smile,  he  said  :  "  Miss  Clara's  outburst  of  temper  just 
now  was  caused  by  my  innocently  informing  her  that  I  was 
not  sympathetic  with  the  war,  when  really  if  she  knew  my 
heart,  and  would  treat  me  right,  she  could  persuade  me  to 
enter  the  ranks  to-morrow.  " 

"  Really  ?  Then  she  ought  to  establish  a  recruiting  station 
right  away.  I  don't  know  what  the  government  will  do  for 
recruits  hereafter,  for  all  the  sixteen-year-old  boys,  nearly, 
have  gone,  and  Colonel  Leslie  and  father  were  enrolled  yes- 
terday in  the  Home  Guard.  They'll  have  to  raise  a  regiment 
of    Amazons,    I    reckon. " 

"They  ought  to  place  Miss  Clara  at  the  head  of  it  then," 
said  Potts,  with  a  sickly  smile. 

"  Good  !  that's  a  capital  idea.  Will  you  accept  the  place 
of  adjutant,  Mr.  Potts  ?  " 

Potts  surprised  Julia  now  ;  he  was  far  from  being  a  fool  and 
was  generally  quite  ready  in  his  sallies  of  repartee.  He  never 
attempted  wit,  but  prided  himself  upon  what  he  called  his 
''horse-sense.  " 

"You  do  me  honor.  Miss  Bearing,  I  assure  you.  If  I  can 
be  as  successful  in  petticoats  as  you  and  your  cousin  seem  to 


232  ETOWAH. 

be  when  assuming  the  counter  role,  upon  my  word  it  will  be 
a  victory  worth  risking  one's  life  for !  Ye?,  I  would  go  under 
those  conditions,  and  suggest  that  you  be  a  candidate  for 
Vivandiere ;  but  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  fighting 
as  a  man." 

''  I  must  say,  Mr.  Potts,  that  you  have  been  badly  treated. 
Not  by  Clara — that's  well  enough  1  suppose;  but  by  public 
opinion  which  has  proclaimed  you  a  coward  and  a  skulker. 
Since  you  have  shown  by  your  last  remark  that  you  are  not 
a  coward,  I  hope  to  .«ee  more  of  you  when  I  will  do  my  best 
to  persuade  you  not  to  be  a  skulker." 

Wellington  Nap  )leon  Potts  had  risen  to  take  his  leave  as 
he  delivered  this  parting  shot,  and  accepted  the  extended 
hand  of  Julia  Bearing  most  gratefully,  in  spite  of  her 
previous  raillery. 

Hesitating  a  moment  and  looking  as  straight  into  Julia's 
eyes  as  a  man  can  who  can't  meet  a  glance  when  it  is  directed 
to  his  own,  he  said  : 

"  Your  first  speeches  to  me  were  such  as  I  am  in  the  habit 
of  receiving  from  people  who  wish  to  drive  me  into  the  army 
by  that  mode.  The  second  is  a  kindness  I  was  unprepared 
for.  I  have  been  kicked  like  a  dog  and  have  submitted  like 
a  spaniel,  for  I  do  not  believe  in  breaking  the  law 
in  the  slightest  particular.  You  have  seen  fit  to  vary  the 
monotony  by  a  kind  invitation  to  visit  you.  I  would  be  a 
dog  in  fact  if  I  failed  to  appreciate  it.  I  shall  do  myself  the 
honor  of  calling  on  you,  if  I  interpret  your  words  correctly." 

Julia  bowed  affirmatively,  and  Pot's  left  without  waiting 
for  Clara's  return. 

Now  the  reader  must  know  that  the  hand  writing  on  the 
wall  which  so  filled  the  heart  of  Belteshazzar  with  fright  seem- 


ETOWAH.  233 

ed  har.lly  more  ominous  to  the  minds  of  thousands  than  the 
prospects  of  the  Confederate  Government  at  this  period. 

Hence  the  determination  of  Potts  to  avow  his  opposition 
to  the  warper  se,  and  hence  the  conference  with  the  unctious 
Fotts  per e  which  resulted  in  the  determination  to  sell  their 
slaves  and  invest  the  proceeds  in  cotton.  Then,  to  protect 
the  cotton,  should  the  Confederacy  collapse,  a  proof  of  "loy- 
alty" would  be  in  order.  There  was  nothing  to  lose  by  this 
step,  except  the  respect  of  the  people,  which  to  their  minds 
wds  of  infinitely  small  importance,  when  compared  with 
money.  It  is  a  fact  susceptible  of  indubitable  proof  that 
had  they  supposed  the  fortunes  of  the  Confederate  States  to 
bs  in  the  ascendency  at  this  period,  the  Messrs.  Potts  and 
nearly  all  of  their  ilk  would  have  espoused  the  Southern 
cause  with  the  most  demonstrative  and  practical  patriotism. 
Wellington  Napoleon  would  have  entered  the  army,  and 
once  there,  would  have  fought  bravely ;  for  he  was  not  a 
coward  in  the  full  sense  of  that  term.  His  pecuniary  inter- 
ests prompted  him  t)  play  that  role. 

His  conversation  with  Clara  was  not  unpremeditated 
either.  Manifestly,  if  the  war  was  going  to  result  in  eman- 
cip  »tion,  Clara  would  no  longer  be  an  heiress,  unless  he  could 
prevail  on  her  father,  through  her,  to  sell  his  slaves  as  he 
and  his  father  had  determined  to  do.  If  Clara  would  not  aid 
him  to  accomplish  hi^  purpose,  he  knew  Colonel  Leslie  well 
enough  to  know  that  its  failure  was  predetermined.  If  it 
cjiild  not  be  done,  Clara  was  pecuniarily  not  worth  mar- 
rying. He  did  love  her,  as  well  as  such  sordid  natures  as 
his  can  love,  but  he  did  not  love  her  well  enough  to  take  unto 
himself  a  penniless  wife.  Hence  the  interview,  and 
hence  the  sudden  resolution  to  transfer  his  suit  to  Julia 
Dearing,    whose    father    owned    few    negroes   and  had  a 


284  ETOWAH. 

great  deal  of  money  in  the  form  of  promissory  notes  pro- 
tected by  good  collaterals.  It  was  in  this  frame  of  mind 
that  Potts  left  Clara's  home. 

"  Well,  Julia,  what  did  you  think  of  Mr.  Wellington 
Napoleon  Potts?"  said  Clara,  entering  the  parlor  a  few  mo 
ments  after  the  departure  of  that  worthy. 

"  I  have  invited  him  to  call  to  see  me  and  he  has  graciously 
consented  to  do  so, "  said  Julia. 

''What!  after  all  you  saw  and  heard!"  said  Clara,  as- 
tonished at  this  statement. 

"After  all  that   I  saw  and  heard, "  coolly  replied  Julia. 
"You  have  done  Mr.  Potts  injustice — not  by  rejecting  him 
as  a  suitor  nor  by  the  castigation  j^ou  gave  him,  which  all 
such  skulkers  richly  deserve,  but  by  thinking  him  a  fool  and 
a  coward. " 

"  I  think  him  both;  that  expresses  my  opinion  of  him 
perfectly,  and  a  knave  in  addition !  "  replied  Clara,  for  once 
thoroughly  out  of  patience. 

"  He  is  neither;  he  is  ver}^  uncommon,  I  think ;  he  has  a 
vast  deal  of  common  sense,  which  is  a  very  uncommon 
article  now-a-days,  "  said  Julia. 

"  So  had  Uriah  Heep !  I  am  disgusted  with  him,  and  you 
can  have  his  attentions,  Julia,  all  to  yourself,  but  I  pit}' 
you. " 

"You  had  better  pity  Potts,  "  thought  Julia,  as  she  men- 
tally resolved  to  make  him  know  how  fascinating  she  could 
be,  in  order  that  she  might  the  better  chastise  his  temerity 
as  a  lover  and  pusillanimity  as  a  man.  Then  she  said  as 
they  went  out  together :  "We  will  not  talk  of  a  disagreeable 
subject,  but  really  Mr.  Potts  has  interested  me  by  his  con- 
tempt for  the  contempt  oi  other  people.  He  is  one  of  those 
selfish,  contemptible  people  who  are  not  capable  of  loving 


ETOWAH.  235 

any  one  disinterestedly.  Most  men,  on  the  other  hand, 
are  but  infants  when  they  are  in  lov*^.  As  a  French  writer 
expresses  it :  "  According  to  the  ancient  theosjonies,  '  Love 
-I'  Amour — is  a  baby  of  five  years  and  a  half, '  but  mean- 
while, Hpsiod  assures  us  that  he  is  older  than  time  itself.  " 

"Mr.  Potts  was  born  old  !"  responded  Clara. 

Henry  Latane  had  been  captured  the  month  before  this 
interview  at  the  battle  of  Spottsylvania  Court  House,  the 
name  of  the  county-site  of  Spottsylvania  county,  Virginia. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  never,  perhaps,  has  history  recorded 
five  such  battles  compressed  into  six  days,  as  the  battles  of 
the  Wilderness,  which  culminated  on  the  12th  of  May,  in 
the  battle  of  Spottsylvania  Court  House.  In  two  days  the 
Federals  lost  twelve  thousand  men,  and  the  Confederate  loss 
was  nearly  as  great.  It  is  useless  to  dwell  upon  the  fact  that 
the  Federal  army  numbered  one  hundred  and  thirty-three 
thousand  men,  while  the  Confederates  had  only  sixty-two 
thousand  men,  and  yet  repulsed  their  enemy  at  the  cost  of 
an  enormous  number  of  prisoners.  Among  the  prisoners 
was  almost  the  entire  regiment  to  which  Henry  Latane 
belonged,  and  both  he  and  his  servant,  Hallback,  were  cap- 
tured. 

As  the  agreement  for  the  exchange  of  prisoners  had  been 
abrogated  and  prisoners  were  no  longer  exchanged,  Henry 
Latane  realized  that  he  would  remain  in  prison  until  the 
close  of  the  war 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

REMINISCENCES. — "tHE  MARCH  TO  THE  SEA." 

Death  lurked  behind  eveiy  hillock,  nay  every  bush,  green 
and  fair  to  look  upon  the  summer  day  when  peace  charms 
the  landscape,  but  treacherous  and  sinister  as  the  eye  of  a 
serpent  when  war  plants  a  weapon  there. 

From  the  summit  of  Kennesaw  I  viewed  the  glowing 
landscape  as  the  foot-hills  of  the  Blue  Ridge  recede  away  in 
the  distance ;  I  saw  puffs  of  white  smoke,  a  sign  I  knew  full 
well,  and  then  the  loud  report  of  the  Parrot  guns  planted  on 
yonder  hill  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 

Opposite  us  is  the  summit  of  Pine  Mountain,  and  three 
Generals  commanding  our  troops  survey  the  scene  from  the 
outpost  there.  They  are  joined  later  by  a  cavalry  brigadier 
transferred  like  myself  from  Virginia  for  the  campaign  in 
his  native  State.  But  one  of  those  Generals  can  compare  in 
splendid  physique  Avith  Bruton  Stewart,  and  that  is  the 
loved  Bishop  of  Louisiana,  Lieutenant-General  Leonidas 
Polk.  The  smallest  in  stature  is  the  master-mind  and  great 
commander  who,  though  pressed  back  gradually,  inflicted  a 
loss  of  ten  to  one  upon  the  enemy,  and  in  whom  the  confidence 
of  all  his  troops  was  unbounded.  A  signal  flag  is  waved 
from  yonder  height,  and  our  signal  sergeant  answers  the 
signal. 

"What!  General  Polk  killed!  and  by  that  battery  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away  !"  The  sergeant  is  up  again ;  field  glasses  are 
again  directed  toward  the  outpost;  the   flag  flashes  in  the 


ETOWAH.  •  237 

sunlight  with  rapidity  as  the  signals  are  exchanged,  like  the 
talking  between  two  deaf  mutes. 

"Yes,  a  cannon  ball  passed  through  General  Polk's  chest, 
from  left  to  right,  killing  him  instantly,"  said  Colonel  Harris, 
Inspector-General  of  the  army,  to  me." 

We  bore  him  down  the  mountain  side,  and  in  the  rear  of 
a  store  in  the  village  he  was  laid,  the  most  perfect  picture  of 
manly  serenity  and  physical  beauty  I  ever  saw  in  a  man  of 
his  age. 

"Two  hours  ago,"  said  Bruton  Stewart  to  me,  "he  gave  me 
instructions,  and  I  was  to  report  to  him  by  daylight  to-mor- 
row. Truly — "  Then  he  ceased,  for  why  should  two  old 
soldiers,  though  young  men  who  had  "faced  the  music"  a 
score  ol  times  and  more,  why  should  they  moralize  about  the 
uncertainty  of  life?" 

Two  hours  later  we  were  at  the  front  again,  and  a  blaze  of 
fire  ran  up  and  down  the  sides  and  heights  of  Kennesaw, 
now  direct,  now  "gn  zig-zag ^^^  now  to  the  right,  then  to  the 
left,  until  that  human  tide  is  repelled  and  cast  down  the 
mountain  sides.     And  a  thousand  died  there ! 

Both  armies  in  line  of  battle,  and  the  long,  seemingly 
continuous  stretch  of  canvas  in  the  distance  is  the  Federal 
wagon  train.  Away  to  the  right  is  a  cavalry  skirmish ;  to 
the  left  the  opposing  batteries  are  hotly  engaged.  And  yon- 
der, trending  away  toward  the  blue  horizon  the  ranges  of 
mountains  grow  fainter  and  fainter  as  coming  twilight  shuts 
out  a  scene  where  nature  has  painted  her  fairest  landscapes, 
and  the  demon  of  war  has  let  loose  the  lurid  flames  that  are 
grander  than  any  pyrotechnic  display ;  more  terrible  than 
any  scene  peace  can  offer ;  but  exciting  to  the  true  soldier  as 
is  the  spirit  of  speed  to  the  race-horse  about  to  enter  the 
arena. 


238  ETOWAH. 

There  ''Old  Rock"  illustrated  this  spirit  of  battle  when  his 
horse  was  killed  from  under  him ;  and  leaping  off,  he  is  seen 
cutting  the  harness  away  from  a  horse  attached  to  a  caisson, 
and  then  mounting  him  bareback,  with  hoarse,  rough  voice, 
he  rallies  and  leads  on  his  men — men,  than  whom  never 
braver  fought  in  defense  of  their  native  land ! 

I  see  again,  from  the  roof  of  the  old  Military  Institute 
building,  itself  on  the  highest  hill,  the  lights  and  the  red  flag 
of  the  signal  station  on  the  heights  of  Kennesaw.  The  low 
distant  rumbling  of  artillery  comes  sounding  through  the 
night  air.     Our  boys  are  doing  their  duty  there  ! 

Again  I  wander  in  the  park  in  the  village,  where  beaux 
and  belles  used  to  congregate  and  laugh  the  merry  hours 
away.  It  is  filled  now  with  cots  upon  which  recline  the 
maimed  heroes  who  have  fallen  during  the  battles  now  ra- 
ging around  Marietta. 

But  a  few  days  ago  General  Hart  led  our  brigade  with 
sabre  waving  over  his  head,  and  gallant  cheers  answered  his 
beckoning  challenge  until  we  halted  after  a  glorious  victory ! 

Across  this  very  park  we  dashed. 

Ah !  but  the  counter-picture !  my  young  friend,  William 
Young,  but  eighteen  years  old,  and  the  picture  of  manly 
beauty  before  that  charge.  With  the  gay  bravery  of  a  South- 
ern soldier,  uninfluenced  by  thought  of  office  or  promotion, 
this  wealthy  young  gentleman  gloriously  illustrated  the 
private  soldier. 

I  asked :  "Who  did  you  sa}^  was  mortally  wounded,  Col- 
onel?" And  a  great  grief  welled  up  in  my  heart  as  Thomp- 
son answered,  "William  Young." 

There  he  lies,  mortally  wounded,  but  unconquered  still, 
and  murmuring,  as  I  raise  his  head  and  give  him  a  drink 
of  water  from  my  canteen,    "It  is  the  fate  of  war!" 


ETOWAH.  239 

Near  him  is  a  Federal  soldier,  also  mortally  wounded,  and 
he,  too,  receives  the  attention  which  "soldier  metes  to 
soldier;"  and  although  the  noblest  and  bravest  private  in 
our  brigade  is  wounded  unto  death,  no  word  of  unkindness 
is  spoken  near  that  fallen  foeman. 

Again  the  shrill  whistle  of  rifle  and  minnie  balls  come 
over  railway  embankment,  and  the  fight  is  joined  in  full 
view  of  Institute  Hill. 

A  moment  later,  and  Thompson  is  himself  borne  to  the 
rear,  shot  in  the  head. 

But  in  battle  all  thoughts  are  merged  in  the  one  tri- 
umphant thought  of  victory ;  and  a  yell,  followed  by  a  dash- 
ing charge,  greets  again  our  brigade  commander  as  he  rises 
in  his  stirrups  and  smiles  Avhen  he  sees  the  effect  of  our 
shells  and  canister. 

And  a  few  days  later  the  Commanding  General  reported, 
in  alluding  to  Bruton  Stewart's  fierce,  stubborn  fight  a  few 
miles  distant,  "The  right  of  the  Federal  army  made  a  change 
of  front  by  which  it  faced  to  the  east.  It  was  opposed  in 
this  maneuvre  bv  Stewart's  cavalrv,  as  well  as  2,500  men 
can  resist  30,000."         >i<        >;<         ^         ^        >i<        M<        ^ 

I  was  standing  in  the  depot  at  Atlanta.  The  bomb-shells 
from  the  Federal  army  could  be  seen  bursting  as  they  pene- 
trated the  walls  of  the  great  buildings  near  it.  But,  pshaw! 
this  was  a  daily  occurrence,  and  we  were  quite  accustomed 
to  it.  But  what  moved  me  more  than  anvthinsr  else  was 
the  sight  of  hundreds  of  soldiers  who  leaned  on  their  mus- 
kets and  wept !  It  is  true,  some  cursed ;  others  looked  unut- 
tered  curses;  many,  man}'  others  wept. 

Why  ?  The  great  General  whom  all  trust  has  been  removed 
from  the  command  of  the  arm}-.     That  was  all. 

Thirty-six  thousand  Confederates,   of  whom  six  thousand 


240  ETOWAH. 

were  without  arms,  was  the  effective  force  of  the  Confederate 
army  at  Dalton  in  1864.  The  odds  were  ten  to  four  against 
them.  This  force  was  increased  until  it  numbered  37,652 
infantry,  2,812  artillery,  with  112  guns,  and  2,392  cavalry. 

Opposed  to  them  was  an  army  of  98,797  men  and  254 
guns.  To  this  force  Avere  added  three  divisions  of  cavalry 
numbering  11,000  men.  In  the  rear  of  the  Federals  were 
119,000  enlisted  men,  tit  for  dutv,  which  could  be  drawn 
upon  freely  if  re-inforcements  should  be  needed. 

Why  speak  of  "the  continuous  battle  from  June  10th  to 
July  2nd  ?" 

Why  speak  of  the  incessant  artillery  fire  for  twenty-six 
davs  around  Kennesaw  mountain? 

Why  speak  of  the  exploit,  greater  than  any  which  the 
ancient  Fabius  ever  executed,  of  conducting  this  army  of  43,- 
000  men  one  hundred  miles,  fighting  almost  daily  forces 
nearly  three  times  as  numerous  and  infinitely  better  equip- 
ped, without  the  loss  of  a  single  Avagon  ? 

Over  10,000  Federal  dead  are  buried  near  the  base  of  that 
mountain,  silent  witnesses  to  heroic  valor. 

General  Johnston  had  been  removed.  That  is  but  the  loss 
of  the  services  of  one  commander.  But  it  was  infinitely  more 
depressing  than  all  the  toiling  marches,  the  lack  of  shoes  and 
comforts,  the  lack  of  ammunition  and  arms,  the  series  of 
daily  battles  and  continuous  retreat. 

The  one  thing  the  army  did  not  lack  was  confidence  in  the 
wisdom  and  ultimate  success  of  their  general. 

"Of  what  avail  the  long  siege,"  men  asked  one  another. 
"If /ie  is  removed,  who  can  lead  us  to  victorv?" 

But  they  did  not  murmur,  and  they  fought  as  men  only 
fight  who  battle  in  defence  of  their  homes. 

It  was  the  energy  of  heroism  incarnated. 


ETOWAH.  241 

And  this  "Gate  City"  stands  on  "holy  ground."  Within 
it  during  that  siege  rare  scenes  were  daily  enacted. 

Here  and  there  a  straggling  Confederate  might  be  seen 
silently  viewing  the  wanton  destruction  with  feelings  "too 
deep  for  utterance."  Now  a  cavalryman,  with  his  blanket, 
carbine  and  high-topped  cavalry  boots,  would  turn  and  watch 
the  bursting  shells  as  a  "hole"  is  made  in  the  wall  of  some 
prominent  building,  and  then,  sticking  spurs  to  his  horse's 
flanks,  give  a  "rebel  yell"  and  dash  on  to  the  front. 

Upon  the  outer  streets  no  vehicles  are  to  be  seen  save  those 
unmistakable  signs  of  war :  ambulances,  with  the  sick, 
wounded  or  dead,  and  gun-carriages,  whose  sombre  mien  is 
enlivened  by  the  laughing  voices  of  light-hearted  artillery- 
men. 

They  were  dressed  in  dingy  jeans,  but,  for  all  that,  were  as 
invincible  as  if  clad  in  armor.  Grand  old  uniform  !  what  if 
it  was  dingy  and  rough.  "A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that,"  and 
these  he  men  indeed. 

There  stand  the  long  lines  of  infantry  in  the  intrenchments 
that  enveloped  the  Gate  City  which  cannot  he  taken. 

We  feel  it  in  our  bones ;  indeed,  we  hnoioihdX  this  town  can- 
not be  taken  by  assault  by  a  force  ten  times  as  numerous  as 
ours.  They  stretch  all  around  Atlanta  with  similar  interior 
lines,  and,  amid  the  constant  firing,  the  men  joke  and  laugh 
with  the  utmost  honhomie. 

The  22nd  of  July  !  I  will  not  recall  that  gallant  Confeder- 
ate victory  save  to  describe  two  scenes  that  will  be  indelibly 
impressed  upon  the  retina  until  life  shall  end.  One  as  the 
moving  army  is  making  the  circuit  around  Decatur.  I  see 
that  wonderful  and  indefatigable  leader,  Pat.  Cleburne.  He 
rises  in  his  stirrups  and  orders  the  column   to  "close  up!"  as 

16 


242  ETOWAH. 

we  neared  the  scene  of  battle.  No  one  who  saw  him  can  for- 
get his  splendid  appearance  that  day,  rough  but  glorious 
child  of  war !  As  Cleburne's  division  entered  the  field,  their 
General  close  behind  the  centre,  the  ranks  parted  and  the 
heroic  leader  now  rode  in  front  of  the  centre  and  cried:  "For- 
ward! charge!  follow  me!"  And  resistless  as  an  avalanche 
was  the  onset,  as  he  repelled  the  enemy  and  drove  them  fi*om 
the  entrenchments,  though  they  were  ten  lines  deep.  They 
were  struck  b}^  the  flower  of  the  Army  of  Tennessee,  led  by 
Cleburne,  just  as  General  Walker,  the  chivalric  son  of  Geor- 
gia, with  flashing  eyes  and  splendid  mien,  leads  his  column 
by  our  corps,  and  we  give  him  a  yell  which  reverberates  above 
the  battle  roar. 

A  few  hours  later  General  Walker  was  killed,  but  he  will 
ever  live  in  the  minds  of  those  who  saw  him  that  fatal  day. 

The  other  scene  was  enacted  by  a  mere  boy,  a  youthful 
aide-de-camp  to  our  general  of  division.  We  had  captured 
the  batteries  opposed  to  our  immediate  command  and  a  large 
number  of  prisoners,  when,  in  the  very  midst  of  our  tri- 
umph, we  were  ordered  to  fall  back.  Why  we  were  so  or- 
dered we  never  could  learn.  The  enemy,  seeing  this,  and 
realizing  the  great  disparity  in  force,  advanced  on  three 
sides  at  once.  Before  we  knew  it  we  were  nearly  surround- 
ed, and  demoralization  was  apparent  in  our  ranks.  It 
seemed  that  our  whole  brigade  would  be  captured,  and  the 
Texans  to  our  left  also.  The  color-bearer  of  the  division, 
borne  back  by  the  common  impulse  as  the  lines  swayed 
back  and  forth,  sought  safety  behind  a  large  oak  tree.  It 
was  then  that  this  young  aide-de-camp  dashed  up  with  the 
news  that  re-inforements  were  at  hand. 

But  the  color-bearer  of  that  magnificent  division,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life  perhaps,  seemed  dazed,  bewildered,  una- 


ETOWAH.  243 

ble  to  grasp  the  meaning  of  the  order  of  this  boy  to  go  for- 
ward. Bomb-shells  were  bursting  overhead,  or  ploughing 
the  ground,  or  scattering  the  missiles  of  death  in  the  air. 
Minnie  balls  were  thick  as  hail,  it  seemed,  and  countless 
forms,  the  gray  and  the  blue,  lying  close  together,  dotted  the 
road  and  field. 

"  Go  forward  with  that  flag !  "  shouted  the  dauntless  youth. 

"  I  can't.  See !  our  line  is  far  to  the  rear, "  replied  the 
color-bearer. 

"  Forward  !  I  say.  Re-inforcements  are  at  hand.  We  must 
rally  these  troops !" 

The  soldier  hesitated. 

I  held  my  breath  as  I  saw  the  aide-de  camp  pull  his  pistol 
from  the  holsters,  cock  it  and  present  it  to  the  soldier's  head. 
There  were  hundreds  lying  there,  dead  or  dying,  or  griev- 
ously wounded,  but  they  were  shot  in  battle  by  the  enemy, 
and  one  does  not  stop  to  think  of  the  man  who  has  fallen 
just  as  his  elbow  touches  one's  own,  so  wonderful  is  the  hold 
of  the  battle-spirit  in  the  midst  of  the  carnage.  •  And  all 
these  fallen  men  moved  me  not.  But  this  scene,  when  a 
mere  youth — his  eyes  and  every  feature  the  very  incarna- 
tion of  battle — was  about  to  send  a  bullet  crashing  through 
the  brain  of  a  brave  Confederate  soldier — for  none  but 
the  brave  are  made  division  color-bearers — paralyzed  me 
for  the  moment. 

I  held  my  breath  and  waited. 

Then  came  the  voice  of  the  color- bearer :  "  If  you  are  so 
damned  brave,  take  the  flag  and  rally  them  yourself !  " 

I  felt  that  no  other  appeal  could  have  saved  his  life,  but 
that  one  did. 

With  a  smile  of  disdain  he  replaced  his  pistol,  and  amid 


244  ETOWAH. 

that  hail  of  canister,  calmly  said:  "I  will  do  it;  give  it  to 
me ! " 

And  gloriously  did  he  do  it !  He  did  not  look  back  to  see 
whether  one  man  followed  him,  but  he  moved  forward,  hold- 
ing that  grand  old  tattered  standard  erect  amid  the  storm. 
Too  young  or  too  feeble,  for  he  already  seemed  physically 
exhausted,  to  hold  it  with  one  arm,  he  dropped  the  reins, 
and  guiding  his  mare  by  his  knees  and  feet,  held  the  flag 
forward  with  both  hands  and  gallantly  moved  direct  upon 
the  enemy's  works. 

Horse  and  rider  seemed  animated  by  a  common  impulse, 
and  that  was  to  get  there  !  And  now  a  yell  that  was  begun  on 
the  right  of  the  line  reached  the  centre,  and,  like  wave  on 
wave  of  sound,  passed  along  the  line  to  the  farthest  man  on 
the  left,  as  they  turned  as  if  on  dress-parade,  and  rushed  for- 
ward to  rally  around  that  standard ! 

The  tremendous  odds  against  them  were  forgotten  as  they 
saw  that  dauntless  boy  move  steadily  forward.  They  faced 
the  front  and  fought  with  desperate  valor,  as  the  entrench- 
ments were  taken  and  lost  again  and  again.  To  the  right 
and  to  the  left  they  turned,  and  stood  at  bay,  and  repelled 
the  enemy.  And  just  as  the  field  is  won,  the  horse  and  rider, 
still  holding  the  division  standard  and  still  in  advance  of 
all,  go  down,  as  a  grape-shot  tears  its  way  through  the  flank 
of  the  noble  animal  which  has  borne  him  so  well.  But  the 
flag  does  not  touch  the  ground,  for,  amid  all  that  dreadful 
carnage,  the  color-bearer  has  walked  behind  that  horse,  eager 
to  regain  what  he  had  given  up,  and  fearless  of  danger.  That 
flag  had  seemed  to  him  country,  home,  wife,  children — but 
now  another  bore  it,  and  the  veteran  of  fifty  battles  followed 
it  aimlessly.  As  the  gallant  youth  fell,  still  holding  it  with 
both  hands,  the  color  bearer  reached  for  it,  and  said  :     ''Give 


ETOWAH.  245 

it  to  me  now.  I  can  carry  it !"  Leaping  from  the  dust,  and 
wiping  away  that  which  obscured  his  vision,  the  aide-de-camp 
looked  to  see  who  this  could  be  who  would  rob  him  of  this 
proud  privilege.  As  he  saw  and  recognized  the  color-bearer, 
and  remembered  how  nearly  he  had  acted  as  his  executioner, 
he  said  :  "  I  yield  it  to  you,  but  to  no  one  else  will  I  sur- 
render it,"  and  gallantly  did  that  soldier  retrieve  himself. 
And  now  the  young  hero  was  a  boy  again,  for  tears  came 
into  his  eyes  as  he  saw  before  him  the  expiring  agonies  of  the 
noble  steed  which  had  borne  him  all  through  the  Kentucky 
campaign,  and  thence  through  Tennessee  and  Georgia.  If 
ever  eyes  bade  mortal  farewell  forever,  the  eyes  of  that  faith- 
ful animal  spoke  its  speechless  griefat  parting  from  its  young 
master. 

*  *  ^  *  *  *  Jjs  *. 

The  Russians  burned  Moscow  rather  than  have  it  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  invading  army  of  Napoleon,  but  what  would 
have  been  the  verdict  of  history  had  Moscow,  after  being 
surrendered  to  the  invader,  been  utterly  destroyed  ? 

A  venerable  matron  proceeded  to  the  headquarters  of  the 
Federal  army  to  expostulate  with  the  modern  Attila,  for 
already  flames  were  devouring  the  city.  Becoming  indig- 
nant at  this  wanton  destruction,  she  exclaimed  :  "Sir,  this 
is  vandalism  !" 

But  he  had  written :  "I  purpose  to  make  the  inhabitants 
of  the  South  feel  that  war  and  individual  ruin  are  synony- 
mous terms,  and,  even  as  she  spoke,  he  handed  to  the  orderly 
the  following  order  : 
'^Captain  Hoe : 

You  can  commence  the  work  of  destruction  at  once,  but 
don't  use  fire  until  the  last  moment." 

Many  sick  and  wounded  had  been  nursed  in  that  hand- 


246  ETOWAH. 

some  old  residence  which  overlooked  the  city  before  it  had 
been  evacuated  ;  now  it  was  tenanted  bv  four  ladies  onlv,  who 
remained  in  spite  of  the  order  of  the  Federal  General,  and 
of  the  protests  of  their  fiiends.  The  flames  enveloped  the 
entire  city,  and  they  viewed  the  sad  but  striking  scene,  but 
refused  to  leave  their  home.  They  confided  the  family  plate 
to  a  faithful  servant,  an  "  opj^ressed  slave,"  who,  after  the 
enemy  left,  restored  every  piece  of  it.  The  fearless  deport- 
ment of  these  ladies,  as  they  refused  admittance  to  the 
soldiers  seeking  booty,  was  strikingly  illustrated  ;  many  had 
attempted  to  enter,  but  a  courteous  remonstrance  had  turned 
them  aside.  Finally  a  platoon  of  cavalrymen  rode  up  to 
the  house  and  the  officer  in  command  asked  : 

"Why  has  this  house  not  been  burned  ? 

''Because  we  do  not  choose  that  it  shall  be  burned,"  said  a 
young  lady  standing  at  the  door- way." 

"Has  it  been  searched  ?" 

"No,  sir  ;  and  it  shall  not  be  searched,"  was  her  fearless 
reply. 

"Sergeant,  enter  that  house  and  search  it  from  garret 
to  cellar!"  ordered  the  officer. 

The  young  lady  was  exquisitely  dressed,  having  put  on 
her  best  garments  that  day ;  "for,"  she  reasoned,  "a  woman 
has  most  influence  when  she  is  looking  her  best."  She  stood 
in  the  door-wa}^  and  said  to  the  sergeant  as  he  ascended  the 
steps  :  "Sir,  you  cannot  enter  !" 

He  laughed  in  derision  and  raised  his  hand  as  if  to  put 
her  aside.  In  an  instant,  calculating  correctly  the  exact 
moment  when  one  foot  was  lifted  and  his  balance  was  least 
sure,  she  placed  both  hands  upon  his  breast,  and  throwing 
her  whole  weight  against  him,  she  pushed  him  backward 
and  he  fell  head-long  to  the  'ground. 


ETOWAH.  247 

Loud  laughter  from  his  comrades  greeted  his  curses,  which 
he  muttered  with  an  Irish  brogue  as  he  arose,  and  the  officer 
ordered  him  to  desist  and  remount  his  horse. 

Then  lifting  his  hat  in  token  of  admiration  for  the  heroic 
girl,  the  officer  led  the  platoon  away. 

When  all  danger  was  over,  she,  woman-like,  fainted. 

Time  and  again  those  fearless  ladies,  during  the  three 
eventful  days  of  the  burning  of  the  city,  followed  the  soldiers 
around  that  house  and  scattered  the  burning  fagots  as  fast 
as  they  were  applied  to  the  dwelling. 

These  Irish- Yankees  had  good  hearts,  and,  but  for  the 
unscrupulous  nature  of  the  license  given  them  to  rob  at  will, 
would  have  spared  rather  than  burn,  as  they  did  in  this 
instance.  While  nearly  all  others  were  destroyed,  that 
house  was  spared.  Courage  was  the  only  weapon  possessed 
b}^  these  heroic  women,  but  that  had  thus  far  securely 
protected  them. 

Thus  wrote  Henry  Latane  in  his  journal,  which  he  kept 
during  the  war.  He  had  been  especially  favored,  and  had 
been  exchanged  by  special  request  of  Colonel  Barnum,  who 
happened  to  learn  of  his  capture  many  months  after  he  had 
been  a  prisoner. 

Thus  the  triumphal  "march  to  the  sea  !" 

Was  it  vindictive  malice  ?  No ;  it  was  war  !  And  to  the 
mind  of  that  general,  ''War  is  cruelty,  and  you  cannot  refine 
it." 

But  was  it  thus  to  the  minds  of  Washington,  or  of  Grant, 
or  of  that  greatest  of  all  American  commanders,  General 
Robert  E.  Lee  ? 

Would  either  of  them  have  used  the  following  language 
in  his  official  report  concerning  this  "March  to  the  sea?" 


248  ETOWAH. 

"  We  have  consumed  the  corn  and  fodder  in  this  region  of 
country,  thirty  miles  on  either  side  of  a  line  from  Atlanta 
to  Savannah,  as  also  the  sweet  potatoes,  cattle,  hogs,  sheep 
and  poultry ;  and  have  carried  away  more  than  ten  thousand 
horses  and  mules,  as  well  as  a  countless  number  of  their 
slaves.  I  estimate  the  damage  done  to  the  State  of  Georgia, 
and  its  military  resources,  at  one  hundred  millions  of  dollars. 
At  least  twenty  millions  of  which  sum  has  inured  to  our 
advantage,  and  the  remainder  is  simple  waste  and  destruc- 
tion." 


CHAPTER  XXIL 

THE    MARCH    TO  THE    SEA. 

"Xa  citta  delle  fiore^  e  la  Flora  delle  Citte.^^ 

"  Clara,  the  view  from  this  point  recalls  the  city  of  Florence ; 
don't  you  think  so  ?  Imagine  that  yonder  picturesque  hills 
are  the  heights  of  Fiesole,  and  that  the  Etowah  river  is  the 
Arno,  and  the  resemblance  is  striking." 

•'  Indeed  it  is,  father;  it  would  be  more  so  if  we  could  see, 
below  the  foliage  of  yonder  trees,  the  lovely  flower-gardens 
that  abound  in  our  spacious  homes.  One  remembers  the  ex- 
pression which  the  Italians  in  Firenze  use  in  describing  it : 
'  The  city  of  flowers,  and  the  flower  of  cities,'  '  La  citta  delle 
fiore,  e  la  Flora  delle  Citte,'  "  she  added,  giving  the  expression 
in   Italian. 

"  That  describes  Etowah,  at  least;  I  don't  know  anything 
about  Florence,"  said  Julia  Dearing,  stroking  the  mane  of 
her  spirited  mare  to  keep  her  standing  while  they  reviewed 
the  lovely  landscape. 

The  sun-set  glow  was  on  the  burnished  spires  of  the  many 
churches,  and  irradiated  the  skies  with  its  golden  tints. 

The  large,  square  mansions  in  the  city,  with  rounded  columns 
extending  from  floor  to  roof,  were  half  hidden  by  the  century- 
oaks  ;  the  huge  mills  along  the  river-side  were  all  busy ;  a  train 
of  cars  was  crossing  the  river,-  and  a  steamer  was  ploughing 
the  waters  down  stream.  It  was  indeed  a  perfect  April  day, 
and,  except  where  the  waters  rushed  aflood  just  below  them, 
the  scene  was  calm,  peaceful,  serene. 


250  ETOWAH. 

But  now  and  then  an  anxious  look  shadowed  Colonel 
Leslie's  face,  for  he  did  not  wish  to  check  the  bright  gayety 
and  happiness  of  the  two  girls  by  expressing  the  forebodings 
w^hich  weighed  upon  him  like  a  night-mare.  Yonder  was 
Judge  Bearing's  home — the  very  house  where  four  years  be- 
fore he  had  expressed  such  confidence  of  the  success  of  Home 
Rule  as  championed  by  the  Confederate  States  of  the  South. 

The  legions  of  thought  crowd  the  brain  on  an  occasion 
like  this,  when  all  the  past  seems  photographed  upon  the  ret- 
ina. 

They  had  received  no  news  fi*om  "the  front" — alas!  where 
now  loas  the  front? — in  ten  days. 

The  people  of  that  little  city  were  determined  to  fight  to 
the  last,  though  "the  people"  were  composed  of  old  men  like 
Colonel  Leslie  and  the  young  lad,  Charles  Latane,  aged  four- 
teen, who  rode  at  his  side. 

General  Lee  had  surrendered  his  army  at  Appomattox  ten 
days  before,  but  they  knew  nothing  of  it.  The  telegraph  w^res 
had  been  destroyed  by  the  enemy,  and  the  last  orders  received 
by  the  commander  of  the  little  garrison  were  to  "hold  the 
town  as  long  as  possible." 

Just  as  Julia  Dearing  spoke,  a  solitary  horseman  appeared 
in  an  angle  of  the  road  to  the  right  of  them.  Though  ascend- 
ing the  hill  he  was  riding  at  a  gallop. 

His  face  was  darkened  by  frowns,  his  lips  were  closely  com- 
pressed and  his  eyes  seemed  a  gloomy  menace.  As  he  passed 
the  group,  how^ever,  his  face  blanched  as  if  with  fear  or  sur- 
prise, or  both,  as  he  bowed  and  slackened  his  pace.  He  was 
hardly  out  of  sight  when  two  other  figures  passed  by  at  a  brisk 
trot.  They  seemed  following  upon  the  trail  of  the  other  rider, 
and  their  countenances  were  as  ill-looking  as  the  faces  of 
brigands  might  be. 


ETOWAH.  251 

They  passed  on  without  saluting  our  friends,  but  a  cynical 
smile,  as  if  breathing  an  unspoken  menace,  might  have  been 
noted  on  the  face  of  the  younger  of  the  two  men. 

''I  wonder  where  Mr.  Potts  is  going,"  said  Clara;  "he  usu- 
ally rides  very  slowly,  but  now  he  rides  like  a  hurdle-racer." 

"I  would  rather  know  where  George  Washburn  is  going," 
said  Colonel  Leslie ;  "the  association  of  those  three  men  at 
this  juncture  of  affairs  seems  remarkable.  I  have  never  seen 
them  together  before,  though  each  of  them  is  known  to  be 
lukewarm,  if  not  hostile,  to  our  cause." 

"I've  seen  them  together  often,"  said  young  Charles  La- 
tane.  "They  have  been  out  to  the  creek  near  our  school-house 
often;  they  pretend  to  be  fishing,  but  they  never  carry  back 
any  fish.  They  don't  speak  to  each  other  in  town,  but  they 
are  'mighty'  sociable  when  they  meet  each  other  there.  Mr. 
Potts  reads  letters  to  them;  I  saw  him  do  it  yesterday." 

Colonel  Leslie's  face  was  unusually  grave  as  he  turned  his 
horse  toward  the  road,  and  said,  with  assumed  cheerfulness, 
"Come,  girls,  it  is  getting  late ;  now  for  a  canter  to  the  bridge." 
Their  horses  distanced  his,  and  he  saw  with  a  shudder  Clara 
challenge  her  cousin  to  make  a  detour  that  they  might  jump 
a  ditch  so  wide  that  it  seemed  a  perilous  feat  indeed.  He 
reined  in  his  horse,  for  it  was  too  late  to  stop  them,  and  saw 
the  horses  rise,  leap  and  safely  alight  on  the  other  side.  He 
did  not  reprove  Clara — he  never  did  in  the  presence  of  an- 
other— but  she,  accustomed  to  observe  his  every  humor,  saw 
it  all  in  his  face,  and,  riding  back,  crossed  the  little  bridge  that 
spanned  the  brook  and  rejoined  her  father,  while  Julia,  with 
the  mettlesome  boy  at  her  side,  sped  on  like  the  wind  in  ad- 
vance. 

The  golden  sunset  illumined  a  peaceful  scene  as  they 
entered  the  town,  and  contentment   and  prosperity  seemed 


252  ETOWAH. 

to  abide  there  if  anywhere  on  earth.  But  the  absence  of 
young  men  was  painfully  apparent,  for  not  a  home  was  there 
that  did  not  haye  a  representatiye  at  "the  front." 

It  was  known  that  the  Federal  army  of  sixty-six  thous- 
and disciplined  troops,  after  all  the  sick  and  disabled  had 
been  sent  northward,  were  marching,  unopposed,  toward  the 
sea,  but  it  was  hoped  that  the  remnants  of  the  Confederate 
army,  in  South  Carolina,  would  yet  confront  and  oyer- 
whelm  them ;  and  it  was  not  imagined  that  this  little  city, 
situated  so  far  in  the  interior,  would  be  attacked,  and  yet 
that  was  the  meaning  of  the  rapid  riding  of  the  three  men, 
led  by  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts. 

The  next  day,  from  the  hill  where  our  friends  had  stood 
and  yiewed  the  peaceful  scene,  a  cannon-ball  passed  oyer  the 
town,  which  Avas  summoned  to  surrender. 

Like  all  Southern  cities  in  those  daj^s,  earth-works  were 
already  prepared,  and  into  them  hurried  the  little  garrison 
of  two  hundred  troops  and  six  hundred  ciyilians,  or  "Home 
Guards."  In  the  ranks  was  Colonel  Leslie,  seyenty-two 
years  old,  and  in  the  cayalry  troop  was  Charles  Latane,  aged 
fourteen.  The  hospital  furnished  its  contingent  of  sick  and 
wounded  soldiers,  the  whole  number  defending  the  town  be- 
ing eight  hundred. 

On  the  other  side  were  twenty  thousand  cayalrymen,  with 
light  batteries  in  support,  all  splendidly  equipped. 

And  yet  the  battle  raged  all  day  and  far  into  the  night, 
until  a  brigade,  guided  by  Potts,  Hefflin  and  Washburn, 
crossed  the  river  upon  a  bridge  several  miles  above,  and 
entering  the  town  from  the  north,  attacked  the  patriots  from 
the  rear.  The  streets  and  squares  of  the  town  were  filled 
with  pursuing  and  pursued  cavalrymen,  and  the  ground  was 
contested,  street  by  street,  until  the  mounted  men  reached 


ETOWAH.  25S 

the  country.  The  remainder  were  captured,  and  the  streets 
were  littered  with  the  wounded  and  the  dead.  The  next 
day  the  carnival  of  the  flames  began,  and  among  the  Federal 
soldiery  could  be  seen  the  crafty  Potts  and  his  confederates^ 
Washburn  and  Hefflin.  the  latter  now  wearing  the  Federal 
uniform.  To  them  this  scene  of  death  and  destruction 
seemed  an  occasion  for  revel,  and  ribald  jests  were  uttered  by 
them  as  the  motley  group  of  "  Home  Guards  "  passed  by  as 
prisoners.  But  one  of  the  vast  cotton  mills,  which  were  the 
pride  of  the  town  and  the  support  of  thousands,  was  spared, 
all  the  rest  being  burned  as  fast  as  the  torch  could  be  applied. 
But  neither  the  mill  of  the  Messrs.  Potts  nor  any  house  in 
Pottsville,  all  owned  by  them,  were  burned,  and  this  was 
their  reward  for  treachery.  Meanwhile,  the  war  had  ended 
ten  days  before  at  Appomattox  ! 

Across  the  State  a  belt  of  fire  sixty  miles  wide  marked 
the  almost  unopposed  "march  to  the  sea;"  and,  as  the  cap- 
ital city  had  been  destroyed,  so  was  this  little  city  doomed 
to  destruction. 

What  a  change  had  forty-eight  hours  made !  The  peaceful, 
smiling  town  was  in  ashes ;  and  of  the  laughing  group  who 
had  so  pleasantly  compared  it  to  the  most  beautiful  city  in 
Italy,  the  youngest,  the  brave,  gallant  boy  of  fourteen  had 
been  slain  in  the  battle. 

Ah !  well  might  a  thought  of  Italy  arise,  for  in  his  death 
were  illustrated  the  words  of  the  national  hymn  of  Italy  : 
"  Chi  per  la  patria  muore  vesuto  lo  assaV  ("He  who  has  died 
for  his  country  has  lived  long  enough.") 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  MARCH  TO  THE  SEA — THE  BIVOUAC  OF  THE  DEAD. 

Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  now  had  it  in  his  power  to 
greatly  befriend  the  people  of  his  native  town,  but  he  seemed 
to  gloat  over  their  misfortunes.  He  desired  to  emulate  Ben- 
edict Arnold,  who  was  rewarded  with  a  Major- General's 
commission  in  the  British  army  for  his  treachery  to  the 
government  which  had  honored  him  with  high  command. 

The  town  was  now  garrisoned,  and  thousands  of  Federal 
soldiers  were  quartered  there.  The  promise  of  the  President 
of  the  United  States  to  recommend  that  large  rewards  should 
be  paid  for  "loyalty  to  the  Union"  caused  Potts  to  make 
this  "  loyalty  "  as  conspicuous  as  possible.  He  did  not  visit 
Clara  Leslie  nor  Julia  Dearing  to  tender  them  sympathy  or 
assistance,  nor  did  he  recognize  them  in  any  way. 

"Every  dog  has  his  day,"  he  reasoned,  "  and  this  day  is 
mine."  This  day  had  in  him  its  dog.  But,  amid  all  the 
excitement  and  demoralization  attendant  upon  the  capture 
of  the  place,  Clara  and  Julia  preserved  a  calm,  dignified 
demeanor  and  proved  themselves  heroines.  Julia  was  full 
of  suppressed  excitement,  but  her  attentions  to  her  aged 
father  were  redoubled,  for  his  feeble  health  was  ill-prepared 
for  such  a  shock. 

Colonel  Leslie  was  calm,  self-possessed,  almost  placid  in  his 
demeanor,  although  his  losses  of  two  thousand  bales  of  cot- 
ton, which  were  burned  by  the  enemy,  amounted  to  a  half 
million  dollars  in  gold.     Two  hundred  thousand  bales  of 


ETOWAH.  255 

cotton  were  burned,  together  with  all  the  mills  and  factories 
and  public  buildings,  except  the  property  belonging  to  Potts 
and  his  few  associates  in  infamy.  Private  residences  caught 
the  blaze  and  burned  like  tinder.  Not  a  murmur  escaped 
his  lips  as  Colonel  Leslie,  placing  his  arm  around  his  daugh- 
ter, kissed  her  tenderly  and  uttered  words  of  encouragement. 
"  Be  not  uneasy  about  me,  my  father,"  said  Clara;  "  I  do 
not  forget  that  T  am  your  daughter." 

•.t*  vL*  %.Lr  *Af  vl*  ^^  %^  ^^ 

*^  *j*  ^ys  *Y«  *J*  ^^  ^^  *y* 

It  is  four  days  later,  and  the  party  of  young  men  who 
escaped  the  city,  it  seemed  by  a  miracle,  slowly  reentered 
it.  Smoke  still  hovered  over  the  little  city  and  the  ashes 
of  the  great  conflagration  were  not  yet  cold. 

As  they  passed  Judge  Bearing's  residence,  pall-bearers 
were  preparing  to  remove  a  corpse  to  the  hearse,  and  among 
them  was  the  venerable  Colonel  Hugh  Leslie. 

''Who  is  it  ?"  they  asked. 

The  lamentations  of  the  negroes  were  loud  and  protracted, 
as  the  dead  man  was  much  beloved  by  them,  for  his  decrees 
against  brutal  treatment  of  slaves  had  made  him  famous 
while  he  was  a  circuit  judge.  One  of  the  negroes  informed 
them  that  the  body  was  that  of  Judge  Dearing  himself,  and 
that  he  had  been  murdered  by  a  drunken  Federal  soldier. 
A  squad  of  soldiers,  bent  upon  plunder,  had  entered  his  res- 
idence and  demanded  food.  The  tea-table  was  surrendered 
to  them  and  they  were  served  plentifully.  After  tea  they 
demanded  gold  and  silver.  They  were  informed  that  he  had 
none,  except  the  family  plate,  whereupon  they  abused  and 
insulted  him.  He  bore  their  taunts  and  insults  with  digni^ 
fied  silence. 

Finally  one  of  them  approached  Julia  and  attempted  to 
place  his  arm  around  her  waist.     She  repelled  him  indig- 


256  ETOWAH. 

nantly,  when  another  came  to  the  assistance  of  her  assailant. 
The  old  negress,  who  had  been  her  nurse  in  childhood,  stood 
at  the  door,  ax  in  hand,  and  when  she  saw  their  purpose, 
she  said  : 

"  Here,  marster,  kill  'em  !" 

The  old  jurist  seemed  suddenly  endowed  with  the  strength 
of  youth,  for,  dashing  aside  two  soldiers  who  endeavored  to 
intercept  him,  he  sent  the  ax  crushing  through  the  skull  of 
the  one  with  whom  Julia  was  struggling,  and  had  raised  it  to 
strike  the  other  dead  also,  when  he  was  instantly  shot  to 
death  by  two  of  their  companions. 

"War  is  cruelty  and  you  cannot  refine  it,"  said  the  com- 
manding general.  But  cruelty  can  be  the  refinement  of  tor- 
ture, and  this  was  the  refinement  of  cruelty.  To  the  credit 
of  humanity,  be  it  said,  such  acts  were  rare,  even  in  those 
days  when  the  women  of  the  land  were  at  the  mercy  of  the 
enemy,  and  their  former  slaves  were  their  only  protectors. 
Sad  as  this  murder  was,  what  other  war  was  ever  accompa- 
nied by  as  few  atrocities  of  this  nature  as  was  the  war  between 
the  States  ?  "Render  unto  Csesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's !" 

Just  as  Judge  Bearing  was  slain,  the  timely  arrival  of  a 
Federal  colonel  arrested  the  infuriated  soldiers  and  pre- 
vented further  outrage.  Two  of  the  drunken  soldiers  again 
advanced  with  evil  intent.  The  oflftcer  struck  one  with  his 
sword  and  leveled  his  revolver  at  the  other.  The  ominous 
click  of  the  pistol  and  his  determined  look  meant  death,  and 
they  sullenly  obeyed  him.  Not  so  the  two  who  had  mur- 
dered her  father ;  they  appeared  at  the  door,  and,  aiming 
their  guns  at  him,  cried  to  their  comrades : 

"  Get  out  of  the  way  there !     We'll  fix  him,  too !" 

Just  then  a  squad  of  soldiers  entered  and  arrested  the  men, 
striking  up  the  gun-barrels  just  in  time,  for  the  balls  pierced 


ETOWAH.  257 

the  ceiling.     They  were  instantly  overpowered,  and  a  ser- 
geant said : 

"  Colonel,  give  the  word  and  we'll  kill  the  cowardly  scoun- 
drels on  the  spot." 

"No;  arrest  them  and  carry  them  to  their  regiment;  they 
shall  be  tried  by  court-martial." 

Julia  did  not  wait  to  thank  her  deliverer,  but  ran  immedi- 
ately to  assist  her  father,  who  was  dead  ere  she  reached  him, 
oneshot  having  struck  his  heart.  She  fell  upon  the  corpse  and 
kissed  the  face  of  the  dead  time  and  again,  but  grief  allowed 
neither  tears  nor  words  to  the  unprotected  orphan. 

"  Endeavor  to  be  quiet.  Miss  Bearing;  I  appreciate  your 
sacred  grief  too  much  to  intrude,  but  had  I  reached  the  house 
sooner  this  would  not  have  happened.  Miss  Clara  Leslie  is 
well,  and  at  Thronateeska;  can  I  not  have  your  loved  father 
borne  there  ?" 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  no !"  sobbed  Julia.  "  Only  take  away  your 
soldiers,  and  leave  me  with  my  father !"  and  she  threw  her- 
self upon  his  corpse. 

The  colonel  said  to  the  old  negress,who  had  tried  to  assist 
her  master: 

"  Here,  "auntie,"  is  my  card  ;  if  anything  is  needed  let  me 
know ;  I  shall  do  all  in  my  power  to  serve  Miss  Bearing.  I 
shall  return  to-morrow;  Sergeant  Cook  will  remain  in  the 
house  to  protect  you  from  violence  or  annoyance,  and  to 
make  known  Miss  Dearing's  wishes  to  me.  Call  upon  me  as 
if  I  were  a  friend  or  relative  of  Miss  Dearing's,  for  nothing 
that  I  can  do  will  be  left  undone.  I  will  be  at  Colonel  Les- 
lie's home." 

Colonel  Barnum — for  it  was  none  other — had  reached  Colo- 
nel Leslie's  in  time  to  prevent  trouble  there,  and  at  Clara's 

17 


258  ETOWAH. 

request  had  hurried  into  the  city  in  order  to  place  a  guard 
at  the  residences  designated  by  her. 

So  busy  had  Colonel  Barnum  been  in  seeking  to  protect 
this  people,  composed  now  of  women  and  boys  and  very  aged 
men,  that  he  was  not  permitted  to  see  his  friends  again.  He 
left  with  his  regiment,  which  accompanied  the  army.  A 
regiment  of  negro  troops  now  garrisoned  the  city. 

At  Chestatee  a  guard  had  been  placed,  even  before  Colonel 
Barnum's  arrival,  by  some  one  in  authority,  who  lode  up  in 
the  dark,  and  called  Martha  to  the  gate.  He  requested  her 
not  to  ask  who  he  was,  but  stated  that  he  was  a  friend  of  the 
family,  and  that  they  might  rest  assured  that  no  one  in  that 
household  would  be  harmed.  The  guard  consisted  of  two 
negro  soldiers,  who  were  very  respectful  in  their  manner  to 
all  the  inmates,  both  white  and  black.  The  officer  wore  the 
Federal  uniform,  and  Martha  beard  the  soldiers  address  him 
as  "  Captain."  She  could  not  see  whether  he  was  a  white 
man  or  not,  as  he  rode  off  quickly  after  giving  her  this  as- 
surance. Mrs.  Leslie  was  too  full  of  grief  at  the  death  of  her 
youngest  son  to  notice  anything  save  little  Minnie,  who  ex- 
erted herself  to  comfort  her  mother. 

During  all  the  succeeding  days  of  trial  for  the  people  of 
Etowah  not  an  exciting  episode  occurred  at  her  home.  The 
guard  was  regularly  changed,  and  they  scrupulously  obeyed 
the  order  not  to  talk  to  any  one  on  the  plantation.  Neither 
would  they  give  the  name  of  the  captain  under  whose  orders 
they  seemed  to  act. 

It  was  only  after  the  troops  had  all  left  Etowah  that  the 
following  letter  to  Mrs.  Latane  explained  the  care  with 
which  her  interests  were  protected. 


ETOWAH.  259 

aivT    T.        ivr  T  Etowah,  April  26,  18^5. 

T.T  .  -K?^^^.  Mistress— I  am  greatly  grieved  to  hear  of  youncr 
Master  Charles'  death.  I  hope  and  pray  that  Master  Henry 
will  be  restored  to  you  safe  and  well.  I  have  not  heard  from 
him  since  he  was  captured.  I  tried  to  aid  him  then  but  we 
were  both  captured.  I  am  now  a  captain  of  a  cavalry  com- 
pany composed  of  men  of  my  own  race,  but  I  have  the  same 
attachment  to  you  and  your  family  that  I  always  had  You 
can  always  rely  on  my  doing  all  in  my  power  to  aid  the 
kindest,  best  mistress  a  slave  ever  had. 

I  am  coming  to  see  all  my  friends  after  awhile  I  have 
placed  soldiers  to  guard  you  during  this  terrible  trial  and 
am  sorry  I  can  do  no  more.  Your  faithful  servant,    ' 

Hallback." 

A  few  days  after  this  occurred,  Henry  Latane,  with  other 
officers,  reached  home.  They  had  walked  all  the  way  from 
Virginia.  As  the  travel-stained  and  dusty  young  officer, 
wearing  his  uniform  and  side-arms,  entered  the  hall  the  ser- 
vants shouted  with  joy.  He  had  never  looked  handsomer. 
Little  Minnie  rushed  to  his  arms,  and  his  mother,  dressed  in 
deep  mourning,  tenderly  enbraced  her  son.  ''Where  is  Char- 
lie, mother  ?"  She  could  not  reply,  but  his  little  sister  said 
m  grief-stricken  tones :  "Brother  Charles  was  killed!"  The 
returned  soldier  leaned  on  his  sword  and  wept. 

This  last  fight  of  the  war  between  the  States  would  have 
been  chronicled  as  one  of  momentous  interest  had  it  hap- 
pened a  century  ago.  But,  by  the  side  of  the  colossal  shocks 
of  arms  that  attended  the  great  battles  of  the  period,  it  seemed 
of  no  consequence,  and  it  has  not  even  been  noted  by  the 
historians;  and  yet  all  that  the  noblest  self-sacrifice  and 
the  most  heroic  courage  could  do  had  been  done,  and  every 
phase  of  human  nature  had  been  thrillingly  enacted.  It 
meant  resistance  to  the  bitter  end  in  defense  of  their  homes 


260  ETOWAH. 

Such  heroic  men  might  have  been  deceived  or  misled,  and  it 
may  be  best  that  the  cause  for  which  they  fought  should 
have  failed,  but  in  their  natures  was  nothing  which  deserves 
the  epithets  "rebel"  or  "traitor." 

They  were  patriots  of  the  loftiest  stamp.  But  in  the  eyes 
of  the  conquerors  there  were  but  few  "patriots"  there,  and 
the  most  conspicuous  among  them  were  Potts,  Hefflin  and 
Washburn.     God  save  the  mark ! 

A  month  before,  another  gallant  hero  had  greeted  the 
warrior's  death.  And  he,  too,  the  day  before  his  death, 
when  full  of  hope  and  courage,  had  written  to  Julia  Bearing 
that  all  would  yet  end  well,  and  had  intimated  that  he  hoped 
for  a  bright  reward  for  his  constancy  when  the  war  should 
end. 

Throughout  the  State,  and,  indeed,  throughout  the  South, 
may  be  seen  upon  the  walls  of  the  homes  of  the  highest  and 
the  lowest  a  picture  representing  the  "Burial  of  Blount." 

A  small  group  of  ladies,  a  little  girl,  several  female  negro  ser- 
vants and  an  aged  negro  man  who  dug  the  grave,  were  the  sole 
witnesses  to  this  burial  of  one  of  the  most  promising  young 
officers  in  the  army.     He   had  fallen  almost   at  the  gate  of 
the  old  plantation  homestead  which  these  ladies  had  refused  to 
leave.     The  battle  had  raged   around   the   old  mansion  and 
more  than  one  bomb-shell  had   passed  through  it,  but  these 
gentlewomen,    with  the   few   servants   described,  remained 
there  during  the  storm  of  deadly  missiles ;     and  as  they  saw 
this  young  officer  rallying  the  troops,  with  the  standard  in 
his  hand  until  he   fell,  and   his   comrades   eagerly  pressing 
on,  they  begged  that  they  might  be  permitted  to  pay  the  last 
sad  rites.     His  name,  rank  and  regiment  were  given  them, 
and  they  left  him  to  their  care. 

Ah !  what  a  pathetic  scene   was   that   when   the  eldest  of 


ETOWAH.  261 

these  ladies  road  the  Episcopal  burial  service  as  the  corpse 
was  lowered  into  the  ground  !  The  tears  of  those  faithful 
slaves  were  genuine,  for,  though  they  knew  him  not,  the 
tender  chord  of  sympathy  is  as  keenly  touched  by  suffering 
in  the  breasts  of  negro  slaves  as  in  the  whitest  that  ever 
breathed. 

And  who  were  these  ladies  who  illustrated  at  once  heroic 
fearlessness  and  the  most  feminine  sympathy  and  the  most 
exalted  Christian  charity? 

Far  back  in  the  records  of  the  "Old  Dominion"  the  name 
which  they  bore  is  inscribed  among  the  first  families  of  the 
land.  In  the  Revolutionar}^  war  it  was  favorably  known, 
and  a  brigadier-general  in  the  Confederate  army  in  Virginia 
had  recently  illustrated  it  by  yielding  up  his  life  in  defence 
of  his  country. 

This  act  of  genuine  charity  to  the  unknown  dead,  perpet- 
uated by  this  engraving,  will  ever  be  a  pleasing  thought  to 
all  who  bear  the  honored  name. 

And  to  t  his  day  his  grave  may  be  seen  there  in  the  lawn  of 
the  old  ho  me.  But  the  flames  that  marked  the  pathway  of  the 
''March  to  the  Sea,"  that  blasted  with  needless  desolation  a 
belt  sixty  miles  wide  across  two  States,  left  naught  but 
chimneys  to  mark  the  site  of  the  home  itself.  On  the  tomb 
of  Major  George  Blount  one  may  read  the  words  of  a  gallant 
Confederate  poet : 

"The  muffled  drum's  sad  roll  has  beat 

The  soldier's  last  tattoo ! 
No  more  on  life's  parade  shall  meet 

That  brave  and  fallen  few ; 
On  fame's  eternal  camping-ground 

Their  silent  tents  are  spread, 
And  glorj  guards  with  solemn  round 

The  bivouac  of  the  dead . " 


262  ETOWAH. 

The  war  was  ended. 

The  negro  was  a  freedman.     Slavery  was  extinct. 

*There  had  been  enrolled  in  the  Federal  armies  two  mill- 
ions and  six  hundred  thousand  men.  There  had  been  enrolled 
in  the  Confederate  armies  six  hundred  thousand  men. 

The  Federal  prisoners  held  by  the  Confederate  authorities 
numbered  two  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  men. 

The  Confederate  prisoners  held  by  the  Federal  authorities 
numbered  two  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  men. 

The  Federal  prisoners  who  died  in  Confederate  prisons 
numbered  twenty-two  thousand  and  five  hundred  and  seven- 
ty-six men. 

The  Confederate  prisoners  who  died  in  Federal  prisons 
numbered  twenty-six  thousand  and  four  hundred  and  thirty- 
six  men.  Yet  the  whole  world  has  been  regaled  with  the 
atrocities  at  Andersonville ! 

Yet  it  was  in  the  power  of  the  Federal  Government  at  any 
time  to  set  all  their  prisoners  free  by  an  exchange  of  prison- 
ers, and  it  was  they  who  refused  to  make  such  an  exchange, 
and  abrogated  the  cartel  agreed  upon  to  that  end. 

And  on  the  high  seas  nearly  500,000  tons  of  American 
shipping  was  transferred  to  the  British  flag  to  prevent  cap- 
ture by  Confederate  cruisers. 

The  magnitude  of  Confederate  captures  on  the  high  seas  is 
proved  by  the  figures  of  results  presented  at  the  Geneva 
Congress,  where  bills  for  $26,408,170.31  were  audited  and 
presented  for  payment  to  Great  Britain,  as  the  total  value  of 
damage  done  by  Confederate  cruisers. 

No  statement  can  offset  this  exhibit,  and  no  exhibit  can 
better  fix  in  history  the  record  of  the  valor  of  the  armies  of 

"■■'These  figures  are  ofiBcial ,  and  are  from  the  records  in  the  United  States  War 
Department. 


ETOWAH.  263 

the  Confederate  States  and  the  self-sacrificing  heroism  of  the 
Southern  people. 

Were  such  soldiers  "Traitors!" 

Were  such  people  "Rebels?" 

Away  with  the  terms!  These  Confederate  soldiers  and 
sailors  and  their  brave  and  gallant  foemen  were,  above  all, 
Americans,  and  their  deeds  are  the  common  heritage  of  all 
the  citizens  of  these  Re-United  States. 

In  time  to  come,  as  now,  when  the  names  and  valorous 
deeds  of  those  who  died  in  defence  of  home  and  right  are  re- 
peated, in  glad  acclaim  will  admiring  hearts  respond : 

"  Roll  back,  O  Time,  the  sacred  scroll 
On  which  is  told  their  story : 
For  by  the  light  that  falls  to-day 
We  read  their  quenchless  glory. 
For  no  historic  page  proclaims 
Such  deeds  of  high  endeavor 
As  those  the  South  enshrines  within 
Her  heart  of  hearts  forever. 

Awake !  fond  memories  of  the  past, 
E'en  though  ye  bring  us  weeping : 
Unroll,  O  Time !  the  precious  scroll 
We  gave  into  your  keeping. 
Flash  all  the  golden  letters  out 
That  tell  their  glorious  story ; 
Proclaim  from  every  mountain  peak 
'  Dead  on  the  field  of  glory.' " 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

l'arcobaleno. 

A  year  had  passed  since  the  tragic  death  of  Judge  Bearing. 
The  sale  of  the  residence  and  payment  of  all  claims  against 
his  estate  left  Julia  only  one  thousand  dollars.  Her  proud 
spirit  suffered  keenly  when  she  thought  of  her  dependence 
upon  her  uncle  for  support.  She  determined  to  leave  this 
hospitable  home  which  was  hers  for  life  if  she  would  have 
it.  She  would  leave  it  before  the  thousand  dollars  was 
exhausted.  She  had  been  in  the  habit  of  spending  three 
times  that  sum  annually,  and  it  looked  very  small  indeed  to 
her.  Her  extravagance  was  not  for  personal  display  so  much 
as  unbounded  charity.  She  had  saved  out  of  her  annual 
allowance  one  thousand  a  year  until  she  had  accumulated 
enough  to  build  an  Episcopal  Chapel  for  the  factory  opera- 
tives at  her  own  expense.  This  beautiful  Chapel  had  been 
finished  two  years  before,  and  the  good  people  loved  the 
handsome  girl  as  if  she  was  a  princess  and  they  her  subjects. 
Often  in  the  rain  she  could  be  seen  mounted  upon  her  spir- 
ited mare,  carrying  medicines  to  some  invalid  whose  poverty 
prevented  her  from  applying  to  a  doctor  or  an  apothecary. 
No  exposure  seemed  to  hurt  her  vigorous  constitution,  and 
she  never  tired  of  these  attentions  to  the  poor.  Meanwhile 
there  was  an  utter  absence  of  ostentation  or  the  appearance 
of  conferring  an  obligation  upon  the  recipients  of  her  lavish 
charity. 

Judge  Dearing  had  never  denied  his  daughter  anything. 
Since  her  father's  death,  these  charities  had  been  discontin- 


ETOWAH.  265 

ued,  except  as  to  medicines  and  kindly  attentions.  She 
walked  now,  for  she  did  not  feel  able  to  afford  a  horse,  and 
she  refused  to  accept  the  use  of  Clara's.  Now,  too,  she  was 
repaid,  for  the  poor  do  not  forget  a  kindness. 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Julia;  God  bless  your  tender  heart ! 
and  he  will  do  it,  child,"  said  Mrs.  Higgins,  as  Julia,  after 
giving  her  the  medicine  needed,  smoothed  her  pillow  for  her 
and  placed  her  own  fine  cambric  handkerchief,  which  she 
moistened  in  water,  upon  the  invalid's  feverish  forehead. 

"I  hope  so,  Mrs.  Higgins;  though  I  hardly  think  a  proud, 
rebellious    nature  like  mine  will  be  acceptable  to  God." 

"You  ain't  proud  a  bit,  child ;  you  are  jist  a  born  nat'ral 
lady,  and  you  orter  hold  yourself  high-like.  There  were 
grand  folks  even  in  the  days  when  the  Bible  was  written,  and 
you  can't  no  more  be  like  us  poor,  ignorant  folks  than  a 
fish  kin  walk !" 

"Good-bye,  Mrs.  Higgins;  you  flatter  me  so  I  must  leave 
you.  I  see  the  clouds  are  thickening  up,  too,  and  I  must 
hurry  home."  How  desolate  she  felt  as  she  said  "hurry 
home."  She  realized  that  she  had  no  home ;  for  when  the 
heartless  hand  of  the  creditor  closes  the  old  homestead  to  vou, 
it  seems  a  mockery  to  walk  familiar  halls  and  rooms  where 
you  dwelt  in  your  happy  childhood. 

The  clouds  were  indeed  thickening,  and  the  thunder  sound- 
ed the  tocsin  for  the  gathering  clans.  As  she  left  the  humble 
home  of  the  aged  factory  operative,  the  big  drops  began  to  fall 
and  she  walked  rapidly — so  rapidly  that  she  came  near  run- 
ning against  a  tall  form,  whose  military  cloak  and  lowered 
visor  protected  him  from  the  storm. 

"Why,  Miss  Julia !  what  are  you  doing  out  in  such  a  storm 
as  this?" 


266  ETOWAH. 

"I've  been  making  a  few  calls,"  she  said,  hurrying  on. 
Colonel  Barnum  had  turned  to  accompany  her. 

"Don't  take  the  trouble  to  come  with  me,  Colonel;  you 
will  get  soaked." 

"And  what  will  become  of  you,  I  would  like  to  know  ?" 
he  said,  taking  off  his  cloak  and  putting  it  around  her  in 
spite  of  her  objections.  "Don't  say  nay,  Miss  Julia ;  I  must 
have  my  way  this  time.  You  have  been  on  one  of  your 
missions  of  mercy,  I  know,  and  the  poor  can't  permit  you 
to  get  sick." 

"Indeed,  I  am  grateful  for  your  kindness,  and  I  accept 
with  a  protest.  I  am  not  delicate,  and  have  never  been 
sick  a  day  in  my  life,"  she  replied. 

"It  is  well  for  the  poor  that  you  have  ample  means.  To  be 
dependent  upon  the  charity  of  friends  for  support  is  a  hard 
lot,  but  to  be  thus  dependent  without  having  fi'iends,  friends 
who  do  not  refuse  to  help  the  poor,  'on  principle,'  you 
know,  is  the  hardest  lot  of  humanitv." 

Again  was  this  suggestion,  which  was  burning  into  her 
soul,  made  to  her,  and  made  by  Colonel  Barnum,  whose 
thoughtful,  considerate  speech  and  manner  had  become 
noted.  "To  be  dependent  upon  the  charity  of  friends  for 
support  is  a  hard  lot ;"  that  was  what  he  said.  Indeed,  it 
was !  A  yoke  she  determined  not  to  bear,  if  she  could  cast 
it  off. 

The  rain  now  fell  in  torrents  and  put  an  end  to  further 
conversation.  A  sudden  gust  of  wind  caught  a  flap  of  the 
military  cloak  which  Barnum  had  thrown  around  her  and 
came  near  bearing  it  away ;  seizing  it  instantly,  he  placed  it  on 
her  shoulders  again  and  fastened  it  around  her  throat.  He 
did  not  ask  permission,  this  calm,  determined  man,  but 
simply  and  sensibly  proceeded  to  do  the  right  thing  in  the 


ETOWAH.  267 

right  way.  Ceremony  in  a  storm  is  nonsense.  Julia  appre- 
ciated this,  but  said  nothing.  It  was  a  new  sensation — this 
thing  of  having  a  beau  not  at  all  afraid  of  her,  not  at  all 
officious  or  presumptuous,  not  at  all  diffident.  There  was 
something  in  his  manner,  rather  than  his  speech,  which 
seemed  to  say,  "I  do  thus  because  I  so  will;  I  so  will  because 
it  is  right." 

They  reached  Thronateeska  drenched  to  the  skin  in  spite 
of  all  protection  offered  by  the  military  cloak. 

''Why,  bless  my  heart,  Julia !  Ah !  Colonel  Barnum,  walk 
in.  Don't  stop  to  talk ;  you'll  catch  your  death  in  a  rain 
like  this.  Come  in  !"  said  Colonel  Leslie.  "I  wish  no  bet- 
ter cause  to  die  in  than  serving  this  daring  Samaritan,"  said 
Barnum  to  Colonel  Leslie.  Meanwhile  Clara  had  hurried 
Julia  to  her  room  and  made  her  change  her  dress.  Her  love 
and  attentions  to  Julia  were  redoubled,  now  that  she  was 
dependent  upon  them  for  love  and  protection. 

"I  am  exceedingly  glad.  Colonel  Barnum,  that  you  met 
Julia,"  said  Colonel  Leslie ;  "I  would  not  have  been  sur- 
prised if  she  had  made  additional  visits  despite  the  storm, 
if  she  had  not  met  you,  and  I  fear  she  is  not  as  strong  as  she 
was." 

"She  must  have  a  very  determined  character,"  suggested 
Barnum.  "More  than  any  woman  I  ever  knew,"  replied 
her  uncle,  "but  she  is  always  right.  She  is  utterly  unselfish 
and  is  as  fearless  as  it  is  given  to  any  human  being  to  be  ; 
withal  she  is  refined  and  modest  as" — Clara — he  started 
to  say,  for  Clara  was  perfection  in  his  eyes ;  but  pausing 
an  instant,  he  said,  "as  any  girl  I  ever  knew.  In  fact,  I 
wish  she  was  my  daughter." 

"May  I  ask  a  question  which  may  seem  inquisitive,  if  not 


268  ETOWAH. 

impertinent :  is  not  pride  the  greatest  difficulty  she  has  to 
contend  with?" 

"Yes ;  that  is  what  I  meant  by  sajdng,  'I  wish  she  was 
my  daughter.'  She  wdll  not  allow  me  to  do  anything  for 
her  which  involves  the  least  outlay  of  money.  She  always 
rode  or  drove  on  her  charitable  visits  during  her  father's  life, 
but  she  disposed  of  all  her  property,  including  her  horses  and 
phaeton,  to  settle  claims  against  his  estate.  Her  father  w^as 
very  patriotic  and  invested  nearly  all  his  property  in  Confed- 
erate bonds.  He  held  claims  against  many  parties  for  money 
loaned  w^hich  proved  to  be  worthless  and  insufficient  to  pay 
his  indebtedness,  incurred  solely  by  his  liberal  indulgence 
of  these  parties." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Miss  Dearing  is  no  longer  an 
heiress?"  said  Barnum. 

Colonel  Leslie,  wdth  a  look  of  astonishment  not  unmixed 
wdth  displeasure,  replied :  "I  do ;  I  mean  to  say  that,  after 
all  claims  were  settled,  there  remained  but  one  thousand  dol- 
lars to  her  credit ;  and  I  mean  to  say  further,  that  she  refuses 
even  to  accept  the  use  of  Clara's  horse,  or  pony-phaeton,  or  car- 
riage, except  when  she  accompanies  her,  and  then  only  to 
oblige  her  cousin.  I  mean  to  say  more,  that  she  needs  no 
assistance,  for  my  home  shall  be  hers  as  long  as  she  lives." 
The  old  gentleman  was  pacing  the  floor  now.  He  did  not 
wish  to  doubt  Barnum  as  he  had  doubted  Henry  Latane, 
who,  although  all  had  been  explained,  w^as  still  a  rare  visi- 
tor. But  he  could  not  help  asking  himself,  "Are  Barnum's 
frequent  attentions  to  Julia  due  to  mercenar}^  motives?" 
The  truth  is  Colonel  Leslie  w^as  a  very  proud  man,  and  so 
was  Henry  Latane ;  and  when  tw^o  proud,  haughty  men  have 
a  misunderstanding,  the  trouble  widens  with  time.     Hence, 


ETOWAH.  269 

while  there  was  no  further  doubt,  there  was  a  frigid  formali- 
ty on  Henry  Latane's  part  which  chilled  the  otherwise  warm 
reception  which  awaited  him.  He  had  called  but  once,  and 
he  had  selected  this  tempestuous  evening,  after  the  storm 
had  cleared  away  and  the  arcobaleno  spanned  the  sky,  to  re- 
peat the  visit  with  a  view  to  learning  whether  Clara  had 
still  any  lingering  attachment  for  him.  He  had  selected 
this  evening,  because  it  was  not  probable,  he  thought,  that 
any  other  visitor  would  be  calling  on  the  young  ladies  after 
such  a  storm,  and  he  felt  that  to  procrastinate  longer  would 
be  insupportable. 

After  tea,  at  which  repast  Julia  was  pensive  and  silent,  a 
most  unusal  state  of  mind  for  her,  the  young  people  repaired 
to  the  parlor  where  Clara,  in  order  to  gratify  Barnum,  whom 
she  believed  to  be  verv  much  interested  in  her  cousin,  seated 
herself  at  the  piano,  and  was  playing  "The  Blue  Danube" 
with  such  verve  and  ease,  that  her  execution  would  have  de- 
lighted the  ears  of  Johann  Strauss  himself,  w^hen  a  ring  at 
the  door  was  heard. 

She  had  hardly  left  the  piano  when  Henry  Latane  was 
ushered  in  the  parlor.  The  tw^o  gentlemen  greeted  each 
other  cordially.  Under  ordinary  circumstances,  Julia  Bear- 
ing would  have  said  to  Barnum  something  to  induce  him  to 
talk  to  her,  that  Henry  Latane  and  Clara  might  have  a  quiet 
chat  together.  Now  she  hesitated,  and  met  Henry  Latane 
timidly. 

The  earnest,  serious  man  w^hom  she  had  first  know^n  as  a 
protector,  whose  arm  shielded  her  at  the  very  moment  her 
father  was  slain,  and  to  whom  she  owed  her  life,  had  touched 
an  inner  chord  in  her  nature  untouched  before. 

"Miss  Julia,"  said  Latane,  seating  himself  beside  her,  lam 
commissioned  bv  mv  mother  to  sav  to  vou  that  she   claims 


270  ETOWAH. 

that  month's  visit  which  you  have  promised  her.  I  need 
not  assure  you  I  will  enjoy  it  as  much  as  she  will."  This 
was  said  after  a  half  hour's  chat — cross-fires  of  little  nothings 
yclept  "small  talk"  betw^een  the  four.  Clara  and  Colonel 
Barnum  were  now  on  the  veranda,  and  these  two  were  left 
alone. 

"You  and  auntie  are  very  kind,  Captain  Latane,  and  I 
will  never  forget  it ;  but  do  you  know  that  I  am  almost  de- 
cided to  leave  the  State  in  a  few^  davs  ?" 

"Leave  the  State!"  said  Latane  wdth  surprise.  "What  on 
earth  are  you  thinking  of  leaving  us  for  ?" 

"I  have  told  you  purposely,"  replied  Julia.  "Mr.  Barnum 
and  Clara  seem  to  be  having  a  pleasant  time  on  the  veranda, 
and,  as  I  may  not  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  you  alone 
again,  I  want  to  ask  your  advice — not  about  the  step,  that's 
decided,  but  as  to  the  place  I  shall  go  to." 

"What  are  your  plans,  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  ask?" 
said  Latane. 

"My  plans  are  simply  to  earn  my  own  support ;  the  thought 
of  being  dependent  upon  others  is  becoming  a  burden  too 
great  to  be  borne.  I  design  teaching  school,  or  becoming  a 
governess,  or  something  of  that  kind.  Women  have  but  few^ 
means  of  supporting  themselves  in  this  country.  In  the 
South  it  is  a  new  question,  growing  out  of  the  war,  and  the 
proudest  scions  of  the  best  families  may  as  wt^ll  'face  the 
music'  at  once.  They  will  have  to  earn  their  bread  suoner 
or  later." 

"  God  forbid?"  said  Latane;  "God  forbid  that  you,  or  any 
of  our  gentle,  lovely  girls  should  ever  be  forced  to  contend 
with  the  scoffs  and  taunts  and  sneers  of  the  world !"  Then, 
forgetting  his  love  for  Clara  which  he  had  received  no  evi- 
dence was  reciprocated,  and  thinking  only  of  the  gulf  which 


ETOWAH.  271 

seemed  yawning  to  receive  this  inexperienced,  devoted  girl, 
he  said :  "  Think  no  more  of  it,  Miss  Julia;  I  will  not  per- 
mit it.  Nothing  will  make  mother  happier  than  to  receive 
you  as  a  daughter,  and,  if  you  will  make  my  home  yours  for 
life,  I  will  do  my  utmost  as  your  husband  to  make  you 
happy ." 

Julia  had  not  expected  this.  She  felt  confident  that  both 
Latane  and  Bcirnum  loved  Clara,  and  she  knew  that  Clara  had 
loved  Henry  Latane.  True,  she  seemed  changed  now.  She 
was  reserved  and  even  seemed  to  avoid  him,  while  he  had 
made  no  efforts  to  renew  his  former  position  as  a  suitor  for 
Clara's  hand.  Clara  felt  that  Henry  Latane  had  learned  to 
admire  Julia  more  than  herself,  and  hence  a  tacit  under- 
standing that  the  subject  was  not  to  be  alluded  to  was  ac- 
cepted by  both  the  girls.  Henry  Latane  had  been  stung  to 
the  quick  by  the  cold,  haughty  manner  of  Colonel  Leslie, 
and  vowed  to  himself  never  to  be  a  suitor  where  he  was  not  ac- 
ceptable to  parent  as  well  as  child.  He  loved  Clara,  he  knew, 
but  if  she  had  loved  him  as  he  loved  her,  he  thought  she 
would  have  prevented  this  unworthy  suspicion  from  taking 
Fuch  deep  root. 

"  Any  good  woman  will  make  any  good  man  a  good  wife 
if  all  other  things  are  suitable,"  he  persuaded  himself. 

Now  he  had  crossed  the  Rubicon  and  had  burnt  his 
bridges  behind  him.  What  was  her  answer  ?  Looking  into 
his  face  with  a  grateful  smile,  she  said  :  "  Captain  Latane, 
your  kindness  overwhelms  me.  Do  not  deceive  yourself; 
.you  have  said  this  to  me  from  generosity,  not  love.  You  love 
Clara— nay,  don't  deny  it ;  it  is  better  that  you  should.  I  shall 
never  marry  until  I  can  prove  that  no  mercenary  motives 
could  induce  me  to  take  that  most  sacred  of  vows.     I  must 


272  ETOWAH. 

act; I  can't  delay  longer,  and,  deeply  as  I  thank  you  for  the 
honor  you  have  done  me,  I  must  decline." 

She  was  weeping  now,  and  taking  her  hand  he  kissed  it 
and  retained  it. 

Regaining  her  calmness  she  asked  him  to  excuse  her  a 
moment  and  left  the  room.  This  left  Latane  in  an  awk- 
ward position,  for  Barnum  and  Clara  were  so  intently  en- 
gaged in  important  conversation  that  they  had  not  noticed 
Julia's  absence  from  the  room.  Latane  pretended  to  be  read- 
ing, or  examining  a  copy  of  Gustave  Dore's  illustrations  in 
the  "Ancient  Mariner ,"  and  thus  prepared  himself  for  Cla- 
ra's surprised  exclamation  :  "Captain  Latane,  where  is  Julia  ?" 
stepping  into  the  room  as  she  spoke  from  the  veranda. 

"  She  excused  herself  for  a  few  moments,"  said  Latane. 
Evidently,  in  his  mind  at  least,  Barnum  had  been  engaged 
in  a  most  confidential  conversation,  in  which  Clara  was 
much  interested,  or  she  would  have  ascertained  Julia's  ab- 
sence ten  minutes  sooner  than  she  did. 

"They  can't  be  engaged,  but  at  the  same  time  it  is  per- 
fectly plain  he  has  been  in  love  with  her  for  years.  I  can't 
blame  him  either,  for  surely  she  is  the  loveliest  person  I  ever 

saw." 

Thus  thought  the  young  man,  already  thankful  that  Julia 
bad  declined  his  proposition,  yet  more  than  ever  determined 
that  he  would  not  make  himself  miserable  about  Clara. 

Barnum  had  requested  Clara  to  give  him  her  undivided 
attention  until  he  had  unburdened  the  sentiments  which 
animated  his  breast.  He  had  thought  for  a  long  time  that 
Julia  was  the  most  superior  person  he  had  ever  met,  and 
the  more  he  studied  her  character,  the  more  he  became 
charmed  with  her. 

"Miss  Clara,"  said  he,  "it  may  seem  unprecedented  that 


ETOWAH.  •  273 

I  should  ask  you,  whom  I  once  fancied  I  loved,  to  be  my 
adviser  in  an  affair  where  I  know  my  happiness  to  be  most 
seriously  concerned.  I  wish  to  know  whether  it  is  not  bet- 
ter that  I  should  say  nothing  about  it,  but  quietly  go  away, 
before  the  object  of  it  suspects  that  I  have  aspired  to  win 
her." 

"  It  is  the  first  time  I  have  ever  been  asked  such  a  question, 
Colonel  Barnum,  but  I  will  do  anything  in  my  power  to  serve 
Julia,  and  I  have  not  been  so  blind  as  to  fail  to  see  your 
attachment  for  her." 

"  I  have  never  attempted  to  deceive  any  one,"  he  replied, 
^'  and  you  are  the  last  person  I  should  feel  tempted  to  repose 
a  half-confidence  in.  I  love  your  cousin ;  have  long  loved 
her,  and  I  had  determined  to  bide  my  time  and  wait  until 
some  circumstance  might  give  me  reason  to  hope  for  success. 
But  I  have  waited  in  vain ;  while  conscious  that  she  does 
not  now  reciprocate  my  love,  I  have  learned  that  she  is  un- 
happy. Besides,  your  father  informed  me  to-night  that  she 
was  almost  penniless.  I  wish  to  offer  her  the  true  devotion 
of  a  loyal  heart.  I  have  no  means  except  my  profession ; 
I  have  found  time  to  study  law,  though  still  in  the  army, 
and  have  been  admitted  to  the  bar  in  New  York.  So  long 
as  I  supposed  she  was  an  heiress  I  had  decided  not  to  address 
her  until  I  had  demonstrated  my  capacity  to  support  her  by 
my  own  labor  without  any  reference  to  her  property.  There 
is  now  no  cause  for  further  delay.  I  wish  to  ask  you  whether 
it  is  proper  for  me,  a  Northern  officer,  to  seek  to  make  a 
Southern  girl,  whose  father  was  assassinated  by  a  drunken 
Northern  soldier,  my  wife." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  told  me  this.  Colonel  Barnum.  Julia 
has  changed  greatly  from  the  happy,  buoyant,  self-reliant 

18 


274  ETOWAH. 

girl  she  was  before  her  great  loss.  I  think  she  likes  you 
particularly ;  I  do  not  know  whether  you  can  win  her  love, 
but  it  is  a  prize  worthy  the  efforts  of  an  emperor.  Julia 
Dearing  would  grace  a  palace  or  a  cottage,  and  adversity 
will  but  ripen  those  noble  traits  of  character  which  you  seem 
to  appreciate.  I  love  her  as  I  would  my  sister.  She  is  a 
positive,  energetic  character  with  altogether  good  impulses. 
She  has  a  frank,  fearless  way  of  speaking,  which  causes  carp- 
ing critics  to  speak  harshly  of  her,  but  she  is  a  true  friend. 
If  you  would  win  her,  let  your  policy  be  festina  lente,  and 
never  speak  of  her  father's  death.  That  may  prevent  her  from 
ever  marrying  a  Federal  soldier ;  but  do  not  despair.  She 
is  worthy  of  your  most  persistent  efforts,  and  I  cannot  ex- 
press a  kinder  or  more  sincere  feeling  than  when  I  say  I 
think  you  are  suited  to  her  and  worthy  of  her." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Clara ;  I  would  not  take  a  prince's  for- 
tune for  the  hope  you  hold  forth."  This  was  said  just  as 
they  reached  the  parlor  window,  and  Latane  heard  it.  This 
was  confirmation  of  his  worst  fears.  He  remembered  now 
his  conversation  with  Julia  Dearing,  in  which  she  had  re- 
lated the  reported  engagement  of  Clara  with  Barnum  after 
his  recovery,  and  Julia's  remark  :  "  What  a  pity  it  will  be  if 
Clara  Leslie  marries  a  Yankee  officer!" 

Stranger  things  had  happened ;  Hugh  and  Barnum  had 
been  devoted  friends,  and  if  Barn  urn's  popularity  with  the 
citizens  continued  to  increase  as  rapidly  as  in  the  past,  he 
might  stand  for  Congress  from  that  district  with  strong  pros- 
pects of  success. 

These  thoughts  had  passed  swiftly  through  his  brain  as  he 
said  calmly :  ''  She  excused  herself  for  a  few  moments." 

"  How  unlike  Julia  to  treat  me  sol"  said  Clara,  taking  a 
seat  near  Latane. 


ETOWAH.  275 

''  I  owe  you  an  apology,"  said  Julia,  re-appearing  just  in 
time  to  hear  Clara's  remark,  "  and  I'll  make  it  now :  Cap- 
tain Latan^'and  I  are  such  old  friends  that  I  take  liberties 
with  him." 

Julia  then  turned  to  reply  to  a  remark  addressed  to  her 
by  Barnum,  as  if  nothing  of  any  moment  had  transpired. 
Clara,  evincing  a  painful  embarrassment  after  a  few  moments' 
silence,  said  to  Henry  :  "  Captain  Latane,  I  am  really  glad  to 
see  you ;  you  have  not  been  treating  us  as  kindly  as  we  had 
hoped  you  would." 

If  she  had  said  "I,"  instead  of  "we,"  Latane  would  have 
interpreted  the  remark  as  it  was  intended,  for  Clara  was 
most  anxious  for  a  complete  explanation  of  the  past,  yet  her 
modesty  would  not  permit  her  to  make  the  first  overtures. 

As  she  did  not  say  "  I,"  Latane  replied,  "  You  are  mis- 
taken, I  think.  Miss  Clara;  a  man  who  calls  to  see  you  on  a 
night  like  this  must  surely  wish  to  cultivate— the  family." 

His  tone,  caused  by  the  last  remark  made  by  Barnum, 
which  implied  at  least  a  better  understanding  with  Clara 
than  he  had  anticipated,  rather  than  his  words,  seemed  un- 
kind to  Clara.  Indeed,  Henry  Latane,  torn  by  jealousy,  had 
spoken  as  he  never  had  done  before.  Realizing  it  instantly, 
his  naturally  courteous  manners  returned,  and  he  spoke  most 
pleasantly  the  rest  of  the  evening.  Before  taking  his  leave 
he  said  to  her,  "  Miss  Clara,  I  must  ask  your  pardon  for  my 
rudeness ;  I  do  not  know  what  impelled  me  to  risk  your  good 
opinion,  which  I  have  wished  to  preserve  for  so  long  a  time." 

"  It  has  never  been  forfeited.  Captain  Latand,"  she  said, 
extending  her  hand  to  him  as  he  stepped  from  the  door 
into  the  veranda.  Her  smile  as  she  said  this,  so  like  the 
smile  which  had  first  so  won  his  heart,  emboldened  him  to 
do  more.     Without  saying  one  word,  he  clasped  that  warm 


276  ETOWAH. 

little  hand  in  his,  then  bore  it  to  his  lips  and  kissed  it  pas- 
sionately. A  moment  after  he  was  gone.  Clara  stood  still, 
listening  in  an  almost  dreamy  way  until  the  sounds  of  his 
horse's  hoofs  had  died  away.  Then,  with  a  happier  feeling 
than  she  had  experienced  in  years,  she  went  to  her  chamber 
to  dream  over  again  the  roseate  dreams  of  love  and  hope. 

As  Henry  Latane  rode  back  to  Chestatee,  conflicting  emo- 
tions fought  for  the  mastery  in  his  bosom.  Again  he  felt 
that  his  love  was  returned,  and  yet  he  doubted.  But  reflec- 
tion told  him  that  he,  a  man  whose  pride  it  had  been  to  con- 
quer himself  and  curb  his  impulses — he,  a  soldier,  renowned 
for  courage,  and  possessing  gravity  unusual  in  one  so  young — 
he,  a  devoted  lover  for  four  long  years  in  spite  of  the  injus- 
tice to  which  he  had  been  subjected,  had  addressed  two  girls 
on  the  same  evening  and  in  the  same  house!  He  despised 
himself,  and  inwardly  resolved,  if  Clara  discovered  it,  that 
he  would  ofler  his  sword  to  the  Khedive  of  Egypt,  or  the 
Sultan  of  Turkey.  All  that  he  had  been  accused  of  was  not 
as  bad  as  this!  True,  he  had  not  said  anything  of  love  to 
Clara,  but  that  kiss  was  the  whole  history  of  love  in  one 
sentence.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  had  been  guilty 
of  deception,  and  yet  he  was  irresistibly  led  to  it  by  the 
most  honorable  of  impulses.  His  reflections  as  he  paced  his 
room  till  the  great  streaks  of  dawn  were  such  as  a  thousand 
men  have  uttered  before  him,  viz. :  "  A  man  in  love  is  a 
fool!"  The  sun  arose  and  its  bright  beams  invading  his 
room  seemed  like  a  sacrilige  to  his  feverish  brain.  He  could 
stand  it  no  longer.  Going  to  his  desk  he  drew  out  paper 
and  pen  and  wrote  rapidly  the  following  note,  which  he 
sent  by  a  servant  to  Julia  Bearing : 

"Miss  Julia — You  were  right  in  refusing  me.  I  am  un- 
worthy your  love  or  that  of  any  noble  woman.     I  not  only 


ETOWAH.  277 

learned  that  I  loved  your  cousin,  but  gave  her  the  most  posi- 
tive assurance  of  it.  This  was  done,  too,  the  very  same  night 
which  had  witnessed  my  declaration  to  you.  You  may  de- 
spise me  for  this ;  I  certainly  despise  myself,  but  I  have  never 
yet  deceived  any  one,  and  at  the  risk  of  losing  your  friendship 
and  esteem,  I  have  stated  the  plain  truth.  Believe  me,  I 
was  sincere  in  both  instances.  If  you  had  accepted  my  offer 
this  would  not  have  happened.  I  ask  no  secrecy.  Punish 
me  as  I  deserve.     Respectfully  yours, 

Henry  Latane." 

The  messenger  quickly  returned  with  the  following  reply  : 

''  Captain  Latane — No  schemer  or  deceiver  would  have 
acted  as  j^ou  have  done.  You  have  acted  naturally  and  hon- 
orably. I  am  the  only  person  who  has  a  right  to  have  an 
opinion  about  it,  and  I  like  you  better  for  it.  It  was  your 
generosity  which  prompted  you  to  offer  me  a  home ;  I  have 
thought  for  years  that  you  and  Clara  loved  each  other.  Never 
despair,  but  trust  to  time,  and  all  will  come  right.  Your 
letter  is  destroyed,  and  your  confidence  shall  be  kept  a  secret. 
Destroy  this  also,  and  keep  the  matter  I  alluded  to  a  secret 
also.     Hurriedly  and  sincerely  your  friend, 

Julia  Dearing." 

When  Henry  Latane  called  to  see  Clara  Leslie  the  next 
week,  the  servant  informed  him  that  she  was  out  riding  with 
Colonel  Barnum.  When  he  called  the  week  after,  Clara  was 
out  taking  a  walk  with  Colonel  Barnum.  Surely  Julia  Dear- 
ing had  been  mistaken  in  thinking  there  was  no  serious 
understanding  between  Clara  and  Barnum. 

"  And  what  right  have  I,"  he  asked  himself,  ''  to  infer  that 
she  reciprocated  my  attachment?    Clearly  none." 

A  fatality  seemed  to  have  separated  these  two,  and  had  La- 
tane been  imbued  with  any  fatalistic  notions  he  would  have 
abandoned  the  effort  as  a  hopeless  task.  He  was  not  a  fatal- 
ist and  he  did  not  abandon  it. 


278  ETOWAH. 

What  a  change  comes  over  our  very  natures  as  years  roll 
round  and  circumstances  weave  their  web  around  the  heart, 
and  time  traces  its  index  lines  upon  the  features.  The  young 
have  grown  matured,  the  old  are  dead,  the  blossoms  scat- 
tered by  the  wind,  the  flowers  nipped  by  the  frost  of  mis- 
fortune ;  then  as  the  snows  of  winter  melt,  and  the  green  grass 
springs  forth  beneath  the  spring  sunshine,  so  the  chastened 
spirit,  summoning  anew  its  courage,  lives  a  new  life  which 
blossoms  and  flowers  again.  Clara,  naturally  joyous  as  a 
sunbeam  upon  the  rippling  waves  of  a  placid  sea,  was  now 
calm  and  gently  winning  in  her  manners ;  womanly,  rather 
than  girlish,  and  inspiring  universal  esteem.  Julia,  natur- 
ally gay  and  careless,  but  proud  even  to  haughtiness  some- 
times, and  seemingly  incapable  of  deep  feeling,  was  now 
thoughtful  and  dignified,  careful  of  speech,  and  gentler  and 
more  patient  than  she  had  ever  been.  Misfortune  had  tem- 
pered her  character  like  the  steel  of  the  Damascus  blade  and 
purified  it  like  refined  gold. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


AT    CHESTATEE. 


Down  the  magnificent  avenue  of  live  oaks,  whose  boughs 
meet  over  the  broad  road  like  an  arch  fashioned  for  the  tri- 
umphal entrance  of  some  magnificent  pageant,  rode  a  dozen 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  and  one  of  the  ladies  wore  the  ''  brush," 
for  the  fox  had  been  caught  on  the  outskirts  of  the  estate, 
five  miles  distant. 

The  trees  seemed  certainly  a  century  old,  requiring  three 
men  with  outstretched  arms  to  girdle  them.  At  the  end  of 
the  avenue,  and  in  the  center  ol  a  square  of  splendid  old 
trees,  stood  the  mansion.  Its  style  is  indescribable,  being 
built  partly  of  stone  and  partly  of  wood,  both  of  which  show 
plainly  the  ravages  of  half  a  century.  The  main  body  of  the 
house  is  a  large,  square  house  of  ten  rooms  with  curious  lit- 
tle wings  added  to  each  corner.  A  kind  of  mansard  roof, 
ventilated  by  two  dormer  windows,  covers  the  main  body  of 
the  house.  The  interior  of  the  mansion  was  grand  for  the 
time  and  place,  with  its  double  parlors  and  heavily  paneled 
and  moulded  doors  and  casement.  A  winding  stairway 
leads  up  to  the  third  story  from  the  hall.  The  hall,  which 
is  very  wide,  is  also  of  paneled  wood,  and  this  is  relieved 
by  a  border  of  deeper  shade  and  very  graceful  design.  The 
third  or  upper  story,  with  its  low-roofed  rooms  and  secret 
closets  or  cabinets,  must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated. 

Azalias  abounded,  and  when  blooming  could  thrust  their 
bright  faces  into  the  very  doors. 

In  front  of  the  mansion,  and  on  every  hand,  magnolia 


280  •  ETOWAH. 

trees  grew  with  tropical  luxuriance,  and  from  the  live  oaks 
hung  festoons  of  gray  moss  reaching  nearly  to  the  ground. 
Marigolds  and  touch-me-nots  grew  in  profusion  there,  and 
flowers  perfumed  the  balmy  air. 

To  see  it  as  it  was  at  that  time,  just  one  year  after  the  sur- 
render of  the  Confederate  armies,  one  would  not  think  it 
so  ancient  in  spite  of  the  manifest  ravages  of  time,  for  its 
thick  walls  were  perfectly  preserved  and  it  seemed  fitted  to 
stand  for  centuries  to  come.  The  term  "ancient"  must  be 
understood  in  the  American  sense,  for  it  is  rare  to  see  a  resi- 
dence in  the  States  still  habitable  and  occupied  by  the  same 
family  after  the  expiration  of  a  century.  That  veneration 
for  antiquity  which  distinguishes  the  countries  and  peoples  of 
the  old  world  and  maintains  the  spirit  of  caste  is  almost  un- 
known to  us,  but  it  is  as  admirable  and  necessary  there  as  it 
is  out  of  place  and  needless  in  the  new  world. 

In  America,  nature  is  the  guide  and  "  necessity  the  mother 
of  invention."  It  was  the  poorer,  albeit  the  bolder  and 
stronger,  of  the  aristocratic  element  which  found  its  way  to 
the  Virginias,  the  Carolinas  and  the  Georgia  of  colonial  days. 
Their  methods  were  crude,  their  appliances  rude,  their  skill 
imperfect,  but  by  tradition,  lineage  and  good  breeding  they 
transplanted  in  the  wilderness  of  the  new  world,  which  opened 
before  them  limitless  liberty,  the  thoughts,  principles  and 
purposes  which  had  made  them  distinguished  in  the  old 
world  and  has  perpetuated  that  distinction  in  the  new. 
Neither  poverty,  temptation  nor  adversity  can  keep  them 
down,  and  every  Southern  State  and  every  community  where 
they  can  be  found  demonstrate  how  they  have  attained  and 
maintained  leadership.  The  annals  of  war  in  every  battle 
demonstrated  it,  and  it  was  rare  to  find  one  of  the  scions  of 
an  old  colonial  family  in  a  boom-proof  place  during  the  war. 


ETOWAH.  281 

The  close  of  the  war  demonstrated  it,  for  honesty  goes  hand 
in  hand  with  valor  in  the  character  of  the  cavalier,  and  to  a 
man  almost  they  were  suddenly  reduced  from  affluence  to 
comparative  poverty.  They  scorned  to  trade  on  patriotism 
as  they  scorned  the  bribes  of  the  conqueror.  Few  in  numbers 
in  any  community,  they  moulded  public  opinion,  and  by 
this  public  opinion  kept  in  subjection  the  ignorant  rabble  and 
the  recently  emancipated  slaves,  with  every  town  garrisoned 
— often  by  negro  troops  under  fanatical  officers  anxious  to 
enforce  social  equality  between  the  races — they  notified  their 
nominal  rulers  that  so  far  they  might  go,  but  no  farther  with- 
out bloodshed !  To  the  few  political  apostates  who,  for  the 
love  of  mone}^,  or  thirst  for  power,  or  fear  of  punishment, 
basely  joined  hands  with  the  enemy  in  seeking  to  fasten 
oppressive  legislation  upon  the  people,  they  opposed  a 
powerful  weapon — social  ostracism.  They  scorned  to  light 
the  signal  fires  of  treachery  on  the  hill-tops.  Meanwhile,  to 
the  soldiers  of  the  Federal  army  who  had  fought  in  the  war 
against  them,  they  tendered  the  courtesy  due  from  one  brave 
soldier  to  another.  As  free  from  cant  as  from  hypocritical 
pretense  of  repentance  as  "  rebels,"  they  declared  that  they 
had  done  no  wrong,  and  had  no  apologies  to  ofier.  Having 
thus  surrendered,  they  meant  to  abide  by  the  terms  agreed 
upon  like  men,  and  to  devote  their  energies  to  re-building 
their  wasted  fortunes.  They  had  agreed  to  abandon  forever 
the  struggle  for  Confederate  independence,  although  they 
had  sacrificed  the  flower  of  their  youth  and  their  private 
fortunes  to  attain  that  independence.  They  had  not  agreed 
to  humble  themselves  by  distorting  the  noblest  patriotism 
into  wrong-doing,  and  their  ^self-respect  would  tolerate  no 
personal  humiliation.  That  personal  sense  of  honor  and 
self-respect  they  valued  far  more  than  the  fortunes  which 


282  ETOWAH. 

they  had  lost,  and  it  gave  them,  in  their  poverty,  the  bear- 
ing of  men  of  birth  and  fortune. 

So  that  the  group  of  gentlemen  of  whom  we  write  might 
have  been  riding  in  the  noblest  parks  in  England,  and  they 
would  have  been  instinctively  recognized  as  gentlemen  "  to 
the  manner  born." 

Back  of  the  mansion,  and  down  a  blufif  of  eighty  feet,  was 
the  river,  a  wide  and  beautiful  stream  of  the  clearest  water ; 
and  there  the  pleasure-party,  who  this  day  enjoyed  the  fox 
hunt,  the  next  day  paired  oflf  to  catch  the  bream,  which  is 
the  fish  far  excelUnce  in  those  waters. 

It  needed  but  a  passing  glance  at  the  occupants  of  one 
boat  to  see  that  "  the  lines  had  been  cast  in  pleasant  places" 
for  Henry  Latane  and  Clara  Leslie.  With  a  careful  negro 
oarsman  to  guide  one  along  the  banks  in  the  early  morning, 
standing  upright  in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  with  the  bright 
"  bob  "  dancing  in  the  waters,  then  to  see  the  waters  break 
swiftly  from  the  bank,  and  suddenly  feel  the  delightful 
plunges  of  a  great  trout,  is  rapture.  But  Henry  Latane's 
^'rapture"  was  of  another  kind,  more  durable,  if  less  trans- 
porting, and  a  veracious  chronicler  cannot  say  that  he  suc- 
ceeded in  stringing  a  hundred  pounds  of  the  best  fish  that 
day.  The  others  did,  and  Colonel  Barnum  even  exceeded 
it.  One  had  won  that  sweet  consent  from  the  object  of  his 
affections  which  passeth  all  understanding;  to  the  others 
the  goal  seemed  difficult — indeed,  almost  hopeless ;  but  for 
all  that,  he  had  determined  to  attain  it.  General  Stewart 
had  neglected  the  opportunities  afforded  by  the  last  few 
months,  not  dreaming  that  there  was  a  rival  in  his  path. 
Now,  it  dawned  upon  him  that  Barnum  was  in  earnest,  and 
that  his  attentions  were  not  displeasing  to  Julia,  and  as  this 
idea  took  possession  of  him   his  old   love  returned.     He 


ETOWAH.  283 

thought  he  had  outgrown  it,  and  probably  he  would  never 
have  known  better  had  it  not  been  for  this  meeting.  His 
delicacy  of  feeling  had  prompted  him  not  to  visit  her  for 
weeks  after  her  father's  death,  while  the  sympathy  and  earn- 
est but  refined  attentions  of  Colonel  Barnum  during  that 
trying  period  had  won  first  her  respect  and  then  her  confi- 
dence, and  now  she  was  beginning  to  question  the  depth  of 
the  interest  she  felt  in  his  coming  and  going.  There  was 
something  singularly  unselfish  and  noble  in  his  character, 
she  thought,  or  he  would  not  have  so  constantly  endeavored 
to  anticipate  her  every  wish  with  the  most  considerate 
courtesies.  There  was  also  a  manliness  about  him  that  com- 
manded respect  from  every  one,  and  she  felt  for  him  a  pro- 
found respect.  Circumstances  made  it  proper  that  he  should 
be  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  home  of  Colonel  Leslie,  whom  he 
consulted  upon  all  matters  pertaining  to  the  unavoidable 
difierences  which  would  arise  occasionally  between  the  citi- 
zens and  members  of  the  regiment  stationed  at  Etowah.  It 
was  owing  to  his  efiforts  that  the  negro  regiment  had  been 
removed  and  his  own  regiment  ordered  to  Etowah,  with  him- 
self as  commandant. 

A  change  had  again  followed,  and  he  was  now  simply  a 
guest,  and  absent  from  his  command  on  leave,  his  regiment 
being  now  quartered  in  Washington  City. 

It  seemed  to  Julia  that  if  Bruton  Stewart  had  ever  loved 
her  as  Barnum  evidently  did,  he  would  have  given  some 
evidence  of  it  during  this  trying  period.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  it  would  be  an  inexcusable  intrusion  upon  her  sacred 
grief.  In  truth,  he  was  not  entirely  satisfied  that  he  did 
love  her  as  devotedly  as  her  prospective  or  affianced  suitor 
should.  The  Julia  Dearing  whom  he  had  loved  was  a  bright, 


284  ETOWAH, 

dashing,  handsome  girl,  given  to  all  the  pleasures  that  vigor- 
ous youth,  endowed  with  beauty  and  fortune,  is  heir  to. 

Thus  matters  stood  on  the  occasion  of  which  we  write, 
and  in  the  house  itself  in  which  these  friends  were  quar- 
tered was  the  smiling  face  of  the  fine  type  of  the  Southern 
gentlewoman,  Mrs  Latane.  Culture  of  a  rare  order  graced 
this  home  at  Chestatee,  on  the  banks  of  the  Etowah.  On 
every  side,  from  the  school-room,  where  she  daily  recites  to 
her  governess,  to  the  conservatory,  and  to  the  garden,  be- 
yond, appeared  the  life-giving  touch  of  the  sunbeam  of  the 
house,  her  only  daughter,  the  child  of  her  old  age.  Intelli- 
gent, graceful,  vivacious  and  gentle  as  good,  she  ennobled 
every  presence,  and  one  felt  purer  and  better  for  having 
met  her.  Every  sport  in  which  young  gentle-folks  delight 
at  country  houses,  except  the  formal  parties  and  gay  balls 
which  had  been  in  the  years  agone  the  chiefest,  these  guests 
had  in  that  delightful  week.  Not  a  household  among  all 
their  acquaintances  was  there  which  did  not  have  a  vacant 
chair  to  remind  them  that  "  the  bravest  are  the  tenderest," 
and  the  noblest  the  soonest  taken,  and  balls  were  relegated 
to  the  future. 

After  dinner,  while  the  gentlemen  still  sat  at  the  table 
over  their  coffee  and  cognac  and  cigars,  the  ladies  having  re- 
tired to  the  parlors,  Barnum  remarked : 

"  Latane,  I  don't  believe  you  people  are  poor;  you  don't 
look  it,  and  you  don't  live  like  it,  and  for  the  life  of  me  I 
don't  see  any  difference  in  the  manner  of  the  negroes  to 
their  former  masters  now  than  when  they  were  slaves." 

"  It  is  remarkable,  I  admit,"  replied  Latane,  "  but  you  see 
them  only  near  our  homes,  where  they  are  in  almost  daily 
contact  with  us.  However,  it  would  be  more  remarkable  if 
it  were  not  just  as  it  is." 


ETOWAH.  285 

"Why  so?"  said  Lieutenant  Grimes,  another  Federal 
officer,  who  had  greatly  befriended  Latane  during  his  im- 
prisonment at  Johnson's  Island,  on  a  certain  critical  occa- 
sion, and  who  had  finally  accepted  his  invitation  to  visit 
him. 

"Answer  for  me  Stewart,"  said  Latane. 

"Well,"  said  Stewart,  you  mean  that  they  don't  know 
how  to  be  otherwise.  They  don't  know  Northern  men 
except  as  strangers,  and  as  our  manner  is  as  it  was,  their's 
is  also." 

^  "That  reminds  me  of  old  Zeke— our  friend  Colonel  Les- 
lie's gardener,"  said  Barnum,  turning  toward  Latane.  "In 
an  interview  I  had  with  him  he  remarked  to  me,  that  nobody 
could  be  'quality,'  as  he  styled  it,  unless  he  owned  negroes. 
That  was  said  five  years  ago,  when  I  was  a  prisoner  on  pa- 
role, and  Colonel  Leslie's  guest." 

"By  George  !"said  DeLaunay,  another  young  planter  neigh- 
bor, striking  his  hand  upon  the  table  to  give  his  remark 
emphasis.  "What  a  fool  thing  that  cursed  war  was,  Latane ! 
Here  is  Barnum,  our  "true-blue"  friend,  a  guest  here  during 
that  confounded  war,  and  Grimes,  over  there,  your  benefac- 
tor while  you  were  in  a  Yankee  prison." 

Latane'stact  as  a  host  was  brought  into  play  now,  for  his 
fiery  young  friend,  DeLaunay,  had  at  first  hesitated  about 
meeting  ''any  infernal  Yankee  officers,"  and  now,  though 
slightly  in  his  cups,  the  truth  dawned  on  him,  that  after  all 
they  might  have  been  animated  by  the  best  motives.  These 
two  were  "capital  fellows"  any  way,  he  declared. 

Latane  interrupted  him  at  this  juncture  by  saying :  "De- 
Launay, when  are  we  going  to  have  that  deer  hunt  ?  I  wish 
to  try  my  hounds.  Suppose  you  send  round  to  Banks  and 
the  other  fellows,  who  own  packs,   and  let  us  give  Barnum 


286  ETOWAH. 

and  Grimes  an  evidence  that  ''there  is  life  in  the  old  land 
yet." 

'Good!  the  very  idea!"  replied  DeLaunay.  "Now,  gen- 
tlemen, I  have  a  big  house,  and  not  a  soul  in  it  except 
myself  and  my  house-keeper,  and  a  few  dogs,  I'll  admit. 
You  will  be  most  welcome  if  you  will  accept  a  bachelor's 
invitation,  and  take  whiskey  instead  of  curacoa  and  anisette — 
drinks  not  fit  for  anybody  but  frog  eating  Frenchmen  to 
drink.  I  beg  pardon,  Latane,  I  don't  mean  to  be  rude,  but 
I  don't  believe  you  like  those  drinks  any  better  than  I  do, 
though  I  find  them  on  your  table  every  time  I  dine  here . " 
And  thus  it  was  agreed  that  the  next  week  should  be  a  "stag 
party,"  and  a  hunt  for  stags  in  the  old-time  jolly  way. 


CHAPTER  XXVL 

A   GOVERNESS. 

''He  is  a  misanthrope,  Miss  Julia,  and,  like  jnany  minis- 
ters, would  make. life  a  perpetual  penance  and  think  that  he 
was  doing  his  duty.  I  fairly  hate  the  word  'duty'  when  I 
think  how  it  is  warped  and  twisted  to  suit  the  prejudices  of 
sincere  people,  or  the  heartless  designs  of  insincere  agitators !" 

"Suppose  you  were  to  resign,  then,  what  would  he  do  to 
undo  your  acts  ?" 

"  I  put  you  on  your  guard  now  when  I  reply :  it  is  said 
the  quickest  way  to  give  a  statement  to  the  public  is  to  re- 
late it  confidentially  to  a  woman.  If  you  repeat  what  I  say, 
you  will  hear  of  my  being  court-martialed  and,  perhaps, 
cashiered.  But  as  nothing  would  give  me  so  much  happiness 
as  to  entrust  my  fate  in  your  keeping  I  will  continue.  The 
result  of  my  resignation  would  be  a  report  to  the  War  De- 
partment that  the  negroes  were  oppressed  by  their  former 
masters,  and  an  earnest  appeal  for  the  return  of  colored 
troops  to  teach  these  people  how  to  treat  the  colored  people. 
The  fellow  was  a  preacher  before  the  war,  and  wants  to  be 
assigned  to  the  Freedmen's  Bureau." 

"  I  must  thank  you  for  your  confidence,  Colonel  Barnum. 
Upon  any  other  subject  I  would  be  loth  to  receive  it,  as  I 
rarely  bind  myself  to  keep  secrets,  and  have  none  to  impart. 
As  you  have  remarked,  I  was  '  an  arrant  rebel,'  if  our  pa- 
triots were  rebels ;  think  our  soldiers  were  the  bravest  in  the 
world,  and  our  cause  as  just  as  any  man  ever  fought  for." 

"  I  will  not  express  my  opinions  about  that,"  he  answered ; 


288  ETOWAH. 

"  they  are  not  as  important  as  the  welfare  of  those  at  least 
to  whom  I  owe  my  life.  Nor  am  I  ready  to  yield  my  own 
convictions.  It  takes  tAvo  to  make  a  quarrel,  and  I  abso- 
lutely refuse  to  quarrel  with  you.  It  was  my  intention  to 
do  quite  the  reverse,  but  you  will  not  permit  that." 

''  No,  Colonel  Barnum,  I  respect  you  too  highly  and  like 
you  too  much  to  risk  losing  your  friendship.  Time  was 
when  to  have  men  tell  me  that  I  was  pretty  and  admirable, 
and  so  forth,  flattered  my  vanity.  That  time  is  past,  and  I 
hope  you  will  not  permit  a  temporary  fancy  to  delude  you 
into  thinking  me  a  paragon." 

''Yet  I  do  think  so,"  said  he  with  an  earnest  seriousness 
of  tone  and  look  which  could  not  be  misunderstood. 

"  Then  I  am  sorry  ;  I  am  infinitely  worse  than  I  use  to  be, 
and  I  was  always  considered  a  selfish,  self-willed  creature. 
Now  I  am  more  than  that :  suffering  makes  people  worse, 
not  better.  But  pardon  me,  let  us  change  the  subject;  ego- 
tism is  not  my  forte." 

''  Miss  Julia,  your  admission  that  you  are  not  as  happy  as 
you  were  determines  me  to  tell  you  more.  I  love  you  more 
than  I  do  any  one  in  the  world,  and  in  your  unprotected 
state  I  feel  justified  in  offering  you  the  entire  devotion  of 
my  life,  and  I  assure  you  it  will  be  '  a  labor  of  love.'  I  can 
offer  nothing  else,  for,  as  I  have  told  you,  I  am  dependent  en- 
tirely upon  my  efforts  for  a  living." 

"  And  so  shall  I  be !"  she  said,  as  her  clenched  hands  tight- 
ened their  grasp  on  each  other.  ''I  thank  you,  Colonel  Bar- 
num, thank  you  most  gratefully  for  the  honor  which  you 
have  done  me.  No  man  on  earth  has  a  greater  share  of  ray 
esteem  than  yourself,  but  circumstances  separate  us.  It  can- 
not be." 

''  He  held  the  hand  which  she  had  extended  to  him  in  his 


ETOWAH.  289 

own,  and,  though  the  strong  man  trembled  from  head  tofoot, 
he  did  not  seek  to  kiss  it  or  to  make  any  demonstration.  With 
a  voice  of  constrained  calmness  he  simply  said : 

"  Miss  Julia,  the  sunset  is  very  beautiful,  but  I  do  not  feel 
in  an  appreciative  mood  to  look  at  it.  You  will  pardon  me 
when  I  say  what  has  been  the  light  and  hope  of  my  life  for 
months  seems  now  like  a  dark  cloud  overhanging  my  future. 
But  the  dream  is  ended;  reality  is  at  hand,  and  I  am  m?  de 
of  sterner  stufif  than  to  give  outward  semblance  to  my  great 
disappointment.  Work!  fame!  I  will  grasp  them  !  Not  for 
fame's  sake,  for  'tis  an  empty  bubble.  I  would  not  give  one 
day  of  your  love  for  all  of  a  President's  triumph ;  but  ambi- 
tion is  the  only  panacea  for  disappointed  love."  As  he  said 
this  the  veil  which  she  had  let  fall  upon  her  face  was  blown 
aside  a  moment  and  he  saw  that  she  was  in  tears. 

Barnum  construed  her  rejection  as  based  upon  the  fact  of 
his  being  a  Federal  officer.  She  construed  his  declaration 
of  love  as  being  prompted  more  from  sympathy  than  from 
love,  and  yet  she  knew  if  there  was  a  man  living  whom  she 
could  "  love,  honor  and  obey  "  it  was  Barnum.  She  felt,  too^ 
that  he  thought  that  he  loved  her,  and  yet  she  would  not 
marry  any  one  unless  she  had  first  proved  her  independence 
of  other  people,  so  far  as  a  support  was  concerned. 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  marry  him,"  she  thought,  "  would  not 
all  the  carping  gossips  of  Etowah  say  that  the  proud  Julia 
Bearing  only  married  to  keep  from  having  to  earn  her  own 
support?  No,  my  mind  is  made  up.  I  shall  leave  uncle's 
house  and  try  to  make  my  own  living  somewhere." 

After  long  reflection,  she  decided  to  go  to  New  Orleans, 
and  to  keep  her  own  secret.     No  one  would  suspect  her  in- 

19 


290  ETOWAH. 

tention,  and  she  would  leave  no  clue  concerning  her  desti- 
nation. 

With  Julia,  to  think  was  to  act.  That  very  night  she 
packed  all  that  she  needed  in  one  "  Saratoga,"  and  deter- 
mined to  leave  the  next  afternoon,  or  the  morning  thereafter. 
Going  to  the  bank  early  the  next  morning  she  drew  the 
money  placed  to  her  credit  and  returned  to  Thronateeska. 
Several  hours  remained  before  the  time  for  the  western  train 
to  leave,  and  Clara  was  absent  making  social  visits.  The 
cab  had  been  engaged  to  take  her  to  the  depot — the  baggage 
had  been  sent  already,  and  so  quietly  that  the  servants  sup- 
posed she  was  only  sending  the  trunk  to  some  safer  place  for 
taking  care  of  it.  The  cab  was  to  meet  her  on  the  corner  of 
E  and  F  streets  at  the  appointed  hour.  Then  she  resolved 
to  visit  her  charity  patients  again.  Before  going  out  she  in- 
dited the  following  letter : 

*' My  dear,  good,  kind  Uncle — Forgive  me  for  what  I  am 
about  to  do.  I  can  never  repay  you  for  your  exceeding  kind- 
ness to  me.  To  Clara,  my  more  than  sister,  my  heai  t  goes 
out  with  all  its  tenderness.  Pardon  m-  lor  saying  that  if 
you  knew  Captain  Latane  a?  I  know  him,  3^ou  would  inter- 
pose no  objections  to  his  attentions  to  Clara.  I  can  say 
nothing  better  of  him  than  this:  he  is  worthy  of  Clara. 
Dear  uncle,  do  not  seek  to  find  me;  it  will  be  useless.  I  go 
to  earn  my  o^'n  livinsf,  and  will  go  far  enough  to  evade  your 
efforts  to  find  me.  I  cannot  consent  to  be  a  pensioner  upon 
your  bounty.  I  drew  the  money  placed  by  j^ou  to  my  credit 
yesterday,  and  it  will  support  mf*,  I  trust,  until  I  can  learn 
to  support  myself.      Your  devotedly  attached  niece, 

Julia  Dearing." 

This  letter  she  placed  in  her  pocket,  intending  to  leave  it 
with  the  cab-driver  to  be  placed  in  the  post-office  after  her 
departure.     She  was  an  unusually  well-educated  girl,  Judge 


ETOWAH.  291 

Dearing  having  spared  nothing  to  provide  her  with  the  best 
advantages.  He  had  made  her,  from  early  childhood  until 
his  death,  his  chief  companion,  which  in  itself  was  a  rare 
advantage,  for  he  was  esteemed  one  of  the  most  learned  men 
in  the  State;  hence  her  self-confidence  now. 

''The  horse  is  ready,  Miss  Julia,"  said  the  maid. 

"  Very  well,  Jane,"  she  replied,  gathering  up  her  riding 
skirt. 

As  she  mounted  the  horse  the  groom  could  not  resist  the 
inclination  to  compliment  the  remarkably  handsome  girl. 

*•  Miss  Julia,  it  does  me  good  to  see  you  in  the  saddle  again  ; 
nobody  can  ride  a  side-saddle  as  you  can." 

"  Thank  you,  George ;  there  is  a  dollar  for  you,"  she  re- 
plied.    "  I  do  not  wish  you  to  follow  me." 

Now  did  the  promenaclers  in  the  city  of  Etowah  lift  their 
hats  and  turn  to  look  with  undisguised  admiration  at  the 
superb  horse-woman.  She  rode  at  a  brisk  trot,  and  soon  en- 
tered the  factory  village.  The  good  people  who  were  at  their 
hom-^s  came  to  their  doors  to  welcome  her  with  a  glad  smile 
as  she  passed.  "These  poor  people  have  warm  hearts," 
thought  Julia,  but  if  she  had  heard  their  expressions  of 
ig'^atitude  and  good-will  she  would  have  felt  amply  rep.xid 
for  all  her  efforts  in  their  behalf. 

"  I  say.  Brown,"  said  one  rough  son  of  toil,  "  I  hope  to 
'God  Miss  Dearing's  got  her  fortune  back !  She's  a  born  lady, 
if  there  ever  was  one!" 

"  Yes,"  said  Brown,  "and  the  prettiest  girl  in  all  these 
parts." 

"  And  the  noblest  and  the  best,"  said  another. 

Julia  rode  first  to  her  old  bed-ridden  friend,  Mrs.  Higgins. 

Here,  Johnnie" — she  spoke  to  little  Johnnie  Vincent,  whom 
Mrs.  Higgins,  in  spite  of  her  poverty,  had  adopted  after  hio 


.<( 


292  ETOWAH. 

sister's  death — "here,  Johnnie,  hold  the  horse  while  I  go  iiu 
for  a  momen^" 

''  May  I  ride  her  up  and  down  the  street,  Miss  Julia?" 

"Not  to-day,  Johnnie;  I  never  refused  you  before,  but  I 
am  in  a  hurry  to-day." 

"God  bless  you,  chile,  and  he  will.  It  does  my  old  eye& 
good  to  see  your  pretty  face." 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Higgins;  I  havn't  time  to  talk  about 
myself  to-da3^     How  do  you  feel?" 

"  Poorly,  thank  the  Lord!  poorly  as  usual;  my  jints  are- 
a  most  gin  out,  but  I'll  be  all  right  a  hundred  years  froncb 


now." 


"  Yes,  Mrs.  Higgins,  but  I  wish  you  to  improve  faster."  As- 
she  said  this  she  handed  the  invalid  twenty  dollars. 

"May  the  Lord  be  praised,  chile!  Got  your  fortin'  back 
agin  ?  If  I  thought  so,  I  do  b'lieve  I  could  take  up  my  bed 
and  walk." 

"  No ;  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  am  still  poor,  but  willing  to  do-/ 
my  part." 

"Take  it  back.  Miss  Julia;  you'll  need  it  sooner'n  you: 
think  for ;  as  folks  what  never  had  money  afore  git  richer 
they  git  harder  and  more  selfish.  Beautiful  and  lovely  as" 
you  are,  you  have  committed  the  only  onpardonable  sin  by 
becomin'  poor." 

"You  would  give  me  more  pain  than  any  of  my  former 
friends  if  you  forced  me  to  take  this  money  back.  'Whom  the 
Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth.'  Don't  you  know  that  all  of  the 
best  people  in  the  land  are  now  poor,  and  only  those  who- 
kept  out  of  the  army  and  speculated  upon  the  blood  of  the 
brave  are  richer  than  thev  were?" 

"Certainly,  I  know  it.  Ain't  Mr.  Potts  too  highfalutin' 
to  live  ?    We  all  know  his  father  was  a  factory  hand  himself 


ETOWAH.  293 

when  he  was  a  boy,  and  they  try  to  hold  their  heads  up 
above  the  real  quality  folks  of  the  land,  and  despise  us  fac- 
tory people,"  said  the  old  woman  indignantly. 

"  Yes ;  but  they  deceive  no  one,  and  no  one  cares  about 
the  airs  they  assume." 

"Glad  they  don't.  I'm  sure  yoa  oughtn't  to.  Why,  (here's 
Funk  Pillberry;  we  all  used  to  know  him  as  'Funk'  when 
he  kept  the  ice  house  down  at  the  corner.  Now,  they  say, 
he  looks  down  on  everybody  except  the  Pottses,  and  is,  next 
to  them,  the  richest  man  in  town.  I  don't  object  to  poor 
folks  gittin'  rich— by-the-by,  Miss  Julia,  let  me  return  your 
fine  handkercher  what  you  put  on  my  poor  old  head  jest  as 
if  I  was  as  rich  as  Funk  Pillberry,"  said  the  old  woman, 
laughing — "as  I  was  a-sayin',  I  don't  object  to  poor  folks 
gittin'  rich — and  I  hope  the  Lord  will  make  you  marry  a  rale 
'nob— but  I  do  object  to  ther  looking  down  on  ther  ekals!" 

''Well,  Mrs.  Higgins,  I  see  you  are  better,  and  I'll  go  now." 
But  before  leaving,  she  made  the  old  woman  tell  her  who 
was  most  needing  money  among  the  operatives. 

The  result  of  her  visits  among  the  poor  was  a  repetition  of 
her  former  lavish  genero.4ty,  and  her  purse  was  lessened 
two  hundred  dollars.  "It  is  the  last  time,"  thought  Julia, 
and  lam  determined  to  leave  pleasant  thoughts  behind  me 
somewhere,  and  for  my  part,  I  would  rather  the  poor  should 
feel  kindly  to  rne  than  the  rich."  It  was  later  than  she 
thought,  and  she  had  to  gallop  back  in  order  to  leave  Thron- 
-ateeska  before  the  family  returned  from  church.  This  she 
accomplished.  Twenty  dollars  were  paid  to  the  servants  at 
Thronateeska,  to  whom  she  told  her  intention  at  the  last 
moment.  Five  trains  left  the  city  of  Etowah  at  the  same 
hour,  and  no  one  could  know  in  what  direction  she  had  gone, 
as  each  train  went  in  a  dififerent  direction. 


II 


294  ETOWAH. 

Finally  the  whistle  blew,  the  trunk  was  checked,  and  a 
young  lady,  closely  veiled,  whose  handsome  and  distin- 
guished appearance  attracted  all  eyes,  entered  the  car.  A  dozen 
gentlemen  arose  simultaneously  and  offered  her  their  seats. 
She  selected  one  near  a  lady  with  two  little  girls,  who  used 
all  their  infantile  arts  to  persuade  the  young  lady  to  lift 
her  veil.  Finally,  she  did  so  in  such  a  manner  as  to  keep  it 
veiled  to  the  rest  of  the  car. 

''Oh  !  mama,  "  said  the  little  girl,  clasping  her  hands  with 
delight,  "she  is  such  a  pretty  lady  !" 

Julia  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  raise  her  veil  until  the  cars 
reached  Montgomery.  To  her  surprise  the  lady  did  not  de- 
scend from  the  cars  there,  but  said  she  was  going  to  her  home 
in  New  Orleans. 

"What  a  pleasant  coincidence!"  said  Julia,  "for  that  i& 
my  destination  also." 

"  Indeed  !  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it.  New  Orleans  is  my 
home,  and  to  me  there  is  no  place  like  it.  May  I  ask  if  you 
are  going  to  visit  relatives  there?  Perhaps  I  know  tbem,'^ 
said  the  lady. 

"  No,  ma'am;  I  am  going  there  to  teach  school,  or  get  a 
place  a?  governess,"  said  Julia. 

"  Ah  !"  said  the  lady,  with  a  sympathetic  glance,  "  I  per- 
ceive that  you  are  about  to  attempt  a  new  role^  for  evidently 
you  are  a  Southern  girl,  and  have  had  the  best  advantages.'' 

"  I  do  not  care  to  go  into  the  history  of  my  life,  and  it 
would  hardly  interest  you  if  I  did,  but  few  girls  were  more 
blessed  than  myself.  That,  however,  is  past,  and  is  no  rea- 
son for  moping  and  complaining  now,  since  I  am  entirely 
dependent  upon  my  own  exertions  for  a  support." 

"  Isn't  it  terrible  for  you  to  think  of  such  an  undertaking^ 
my  dear  young  lady?'' 


ETOWAH.  295 

"  Oh,  no ;  not  at  all  terrible,"  replied  Julia ;  ''  most  people 
have  it  to  do,  and  I  rather  relish  the  idea  of  being  depend- 
ent upon  no  one  but  myself." 

The  lady  shrugged  her  shoulders  in  the  expressive  Creole 
fashion  and  replied  : 

"  I  don't  understand  it,  I  confess.  I  think  the  old  South- 
ern plan  of  raising  girls  in  luxury,  and  never  letting  them 
have  a  want  which  was  not  gratiti  d,  made  them  sweeter  and 
more  attached  to  home  than  anv  other  system.  I  think 
when  Southern  girls  permit  themselves  to  come  in  contact 
with  the  world  they  will  lose  that  gentleness  and  lovelin(  ss 
wliich  I  think  is  their  exclusive  prerogative." 

'•  Ind  ed !"  said  Julia,  finding  it  ditticult  to  control  her 
feelings ;  "  but  when  one  has  no  other  alternative  but  to  work 
or  stirve,  what  do  you  think  one  ought  to  do?" 

''  Make  your  brothers  work  for  you." 

"  But  I  have  no  brother.-." 

'•Then  your  father  ought  to  do  it." 

"My  father  is  dead,"  said  Julia,  unable  longer  to  control 
her  tears. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  forgive  me !  I  really  don't  know  then  what 
other  course  is  left  to  you,  but  it  is  a  terrible  undertaking. 
Now,  I  know  a  strong-minded  girl  won't  suit  me;  I  don't 
believe  in  any  woman's  rights,  except  the  right  to  be  pretty, 
as  you  can,  and  make  the  other  sex  take  care  of  us;  but  I'll 
make  you  an  offer,  if  you  are  in  earnest ;  you  can  act  as  gov- 
erness for  my  little  girls,  and  go  direct  to  my  house  when  we 
reach  New  Orleans." 

"  Please  do,"  said  the  little  girls.  "  We'll  just  watch  your 
pretty  face  and  kiss  you  all  day." 

"  That  would  be  very  poor  instruction,  my  little  friends," 
said  Julia,  returning  the  kisses  of  the  children.     "Madam,  I 


296  ETOWAH. 

cannot  thank  you  too  much,  and  will  gladly  accept  your  ofier 
— on  the  condition,  however,  that  I  am  not  to  be  questioned 
concerning  my  past  life,  or  the  motives  which  prompted  me 
to  adopt  this  method  of  earning  my  own  support." 

"  Very  well,  then ;  but  I  think  a  woman  of  my  age  might 
be  an  invaluable  counsellor  to  a  woman  of  your  age;  I  will 
not  advise  unless  I  can  question.  Now,  I  make  the  further 
condition  that  our  arrang  ment  shall  last  a  year,  if  I  choose 
to  bind  you  to  it,  and  I  shall  have  the  privilege  of  discharg- 
ing you  whenever  I  choose.  Of  course,  you  can  leave  at  any 
time  if  you  are  willing  to  forfeit  your  wages." 

"Your  terms  seem  hurd,"  said  Julia  in  a  freezing  tone, 
*'  but  there  is  no  help  for  it,  I  suppose,  and  I  accept  them." 

"  They  are  not  hiid,"  said  the  lady,  ''  for  you  are  entirely 
unknown  to  me  and  may  be  an  impostor  for  all  I  know. 
Miss  Scratch  fooled  me  completel3^" 

"  I  hate  Miss  Scratch !"  said  the  little  girls;  ''she  was  ugly 
and  didn't  have  a  sweet  voice   like  " — 

"  Miss  Bearing,"  interrupted  Julia. 

''Oh,  what  a  pretty  name  for  such  a  pretty  lady,"  cried 
one  of  the  children. 

Their  mother,  her  object  having  been  accomplished,  had 
now  resumed  her  easy,  comfortable  position  and  was  as  com- 
pletely engrossed  in  a  novel  as  if  she  had  never  heard  of 
Miss  Bearing.  All  her  familiar  and  affectionate  allusions, 
.all  her  dimpled  smiles  and  affectation  oi  naivete.,  vanished  as 
soon  as  the  beautiful  young  lady  tourist  was  transformed 
into  a  plain  governess.  Not  so  the  effect  upon  the  children  : 
they  climbed  in  her  lap  and  wound  their  arms  around  her 
neck  and  said :  "Your  name  is  Miss  Bearing;  mine  is  Julia 
LaGrange ;"  "and  mine  is  Marie  LaGrange,  and  mama's  is 
Mrs.  LaGrange,"  chimed  in  the  younger  child. 


ETOWAH.  297 

"Youliave  pretty  name?,  too,"  said  Julia;  "and  if  you 
would  look  pretty  when  you  grow  up  you  must  learn  to  be 
generous  and  sweet,  and  lovely  in  your  disposition." 

"We  are  all  that  now,  ain't  we,  mama,"  said  the  children, 
.appealing  to  Mrs.  LaGrange. 

"What  is  it,  my  love  ?"  said  their  mother  still  reading  and 
paying  no  attention  to  the  little  girls. 

"Oh,  mama,  put  down  your  book  and  talk  to  the  pretty 
lady  as  you  did  before;  we  want  to  know  if  we  aren't  all 
that  now." 

"All  whai",  my  dears?" 

"Prett}^,  and  lovely,  and  sweet,  and  good." 

"Certainly  you  are ;  I  hope,  Miss  Dearing,  you  have  not 
begun  a  catechism  concerning  the  children's  faults  already." 

This  was  said  in  so  unfeeling  a  mann'^r  that  Julia  replied 
in  her  natural  manner  :  "Mrs.  LaGrange,  if  you  have  begun 
thus  early  to  suspect  me  of  utter  incapacity  to  perform  my 
duties,  I  think  we  may  as  well  consider  our  engagement  at 
an  end." 

As  Julia  said  this,  Mrs.  LaGrange  saw  upon  her  finger  two 
rings — diamonds  of  great  value,  which  had  been  given  her 
by  her  father — and  her  curiosity  to  know  more  of  this  dis- 
tinguished looking  stranger,  as  w^ell  as  her  better  judgment, 
prevailed  upon  her  to  forego  her  desire  for  petty  tyranny, 
and  she  replied  in  a  gracious  manner :  "  If  I  have  done  you 
injustice,  I  did  not  intend  it;  I  w^as  intensely  interested  in 
this  novel  and  the  children  worried  me  ;  of  course,  I  see  that 
I  was  wrong  now,  and  no  one,  you  will  find  when  you  know 
me,  is  quicker  to  make  amends  than  lam  when  I  am  in  the 
wrong.  Remember  that,  children,  as  next  to  the  golden 
rule." 

Julia  had  thus  received  her  first  impressions  of  the  art  of 


298  ETOWAH. 

making  a  living.     She  realized  that  her  cherished  independ- 
ence of  thought,  speech  and  action  must  be  curbed. 

Mrs.  LaGrange  was  but  a  type  of  a  numerous  class — a  good 
sort  of  woman  after  you  found  her  out,  but  "  fussy,"  very. 
*'  Fussy  "  women,  though  they  "  make  much  ado  about  noth- 
ing," frequently  have  kind  hearts,  and  Mrs.  LaGrange  wa& 
one  of  these.  Education,  beyond  "the  three  R's,"  she  con- 
sidered superfluous  for  women;  but  a  knowledge  of  music, 
at  least  sufhcient  to  criticise  the  opera,  was  a  sine  qua  non. 
Above  all  other  things,  Mrs.  LaGrange  prided  herself  on  b'  ing^ 
a  Creole — i.  e.,  she  was  born  in  New  Orleans.  Some  Creole 
ladies  think  of  all  people  not  born  in  the  "Crescent  City"  as- 
the  Celestials  do  of  those  whose  misfortune  it  is  not  to  have 
almond  eyes  and  who  were  not  born  in  the  Flowery  King- 
dom :  that  is  to  say,  all  people  not  Creoles  should  be  classed 
as  "outside  birbarians,"  who  wera  especial  1}^  blessed  when 
they  were  permitted  the  entree  into  the  best  Creole  society  ia 
New  Orleans. 

Julia  was  not  a  Creole,  and  she  wxs  a  governess,  and  a  young 
woman  who  would  be  a  "  young  lady  "  if  she  were  not  a 
governess.  This  was  a  new  experience  to  Julia,  who  bad 
been  CDurtedand  ciressedall  her  life.  It  would  tax  her  strong 
will  to  be  philosophical  now. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


THE    TORCH-BEARERS. 


The  influence  of  our  venerable  black  friend,  Uncle  Bar- 
ney, was  rendered  greater  by  the  emancipation  of  his  race. 
He  was  a  large,  fat,  jolly-looking  o!d  negro,  with  a  bald 
head,  a  fringe  of  grizzled  beard  encircling  his  face,  and  a 
portly,  well-fed  look. 

He  had  prospered  greatly,  for  his  conservative  counsels 
made  for  him  friends  among  all  classes  of  the  people. 
Though  so  short  a  time  had  passed  since  his  emancipation, 
he  owned  the  farm  on  which  he  lived,  and  it  was  cultivated 
by  his  congregation  without  any  expense  to  him.  As  he 
assessed  every  one  of  his  thousands  of  followers  one  dollar 
per  annum,  his  income  was  very  great,  for  they  considered 
this  contribution  to  his  support  as  a  religious  duty.  He 
presided  over  many  churches  in  the  country,  and  had 
erected,  with  the  salary  given  him,  a  large  house  of  worship 
in  Etowah.  "  Uncle  Barney,"  though  he  drove  now  in  the 
finest  buggy  in  the  county,  with  silver-mounted  harness  to 
match  it,  was  so  great  an  object  of  veneration  among  them 
that  his  word  was  accepted  as  their  law  and  gospel.  He 
ruled  them  with  a  firm,  but  kindly  hand,  and  many  wisely 
submitted  to  the  "brushing"  which  he  gave  them,  and 
thus  escaped  the  hungry  maw  of  the  infamous  "chain-gang.'* 
If  a  wife  was  unfaithful,  or  did  not  put  her  house  and  ef- 
fects in  order  the  Saturday  afternoon,  for  which  purpose 
the  afternoon  was  given  her  in  the  days  of  slavery,  her 
husband  reported  the  fact  to  "Uncle  Barney,"  who,  on  his 


300  ETOWAH. 

/next  round  of  visits,  called  her  forth  and  "brushed"  her 
with  his  buggy-whip.  He  looked  like  a  bishop,  and  acted 
like  a  monarch  among  these  lowl}^  people,  over  whom  he 
presided  with  a  dignity  and  a  gentleness  that  was  admira- 
ble. His  converts  were  numbered  by  the  hundred  when- 
ever he  announced  that  a  "revival"  was  in  progress;  and 
crowds  assembled  from  town  and  country  to  witness  the 
immersion  of  hundreds  of  the  converts  on  these  occasions. 
He  gcithnred  in  the  dollars  promptly,  because  he  asserted  he 
was  putting  it  to  better  use  than  they  would,  an  assertion  to 
which  all,  bjth  white  and  black,  absented.  If  any  one  refused 
to  pay  the  assessment,  he  was  promptly  turned  out  of  the 
church.  Meanwhile,  "Uncle  Barney"  rigidly  abstained 
from  all  political  meetings,  and  urged  his  followers  to  do 
likewise.  He  seemed  to  them  to  look  into  futurity,  like  the 
seers  of  old,  but  in  spite  of  his  influence  and  acknowledged 
authority,  he  could  not  repress  the  natural  long" ng  on  the 
part  of  the  newly  made  voters  to  exercise  the  right  of  suf- 
frage and  to  attend  political  gatherings.  Of  one  very  im- 
portant meeting,  in  their  eyes  at  least,  they  were  careful 
to  keep  him  in  ignorance. 

In  the  depths  of  a  forest  near  the  city  of  Etowah  was  an 
open  tield,  and  this  field  was  lighted  by  pine  knots  placed, 
here  and  there,  about  the  enclosure.  Two  hundred  negro 
men  and  several  white  men,  two  of  whom  were  masked, 
were  there  assembled  at  midnight  to  organize  the  first  "Loyal 
League."  The  speak'^r  who  first  commanded  the  attention 
-of  the  motley  groups  was  a  Mr.  Bogan,  a  "Green  Grocer," 
as  he  styled  himself,  harmless  as  a  man  and  quiet  as  a  citi- 
zen, whose  earnest  loyalty  to  the  Union  throughout  the  war 
had  given  him  a  prominence  which  nothing  else  could  have 
•done,  and   thus  engendered  a  vanity  which  unscrupulous 


ETOWAH.  '      301 

men  resolved  to  utilize.  He  had  not  an  enemy  in  the  world. 
When  the  President  would  appoint  a  day  of  fasting  and' 
prayer,  Mr.  Bogan  would  close  his  little  shop,  gather  his 
family  and  a  few  congenial  spirits  around  him,  and  make  it 
a  day  of  feasting  instead  of  fasting.  When  a  day  of  thanks- 
giving was  appointed  for  victories  won  by  the  Confederate 
armies,  he  would  close  his  shop,  and,  placing  craps  on  the 
door,  would  do  all  in  his  power  to  make  it  appear  a  day  of 
mourning.  People  laughed  at  his  vagaries  and  he  did  not 
lose  a  customer  on  account  of  his  intense  loyalty  to  the  cause 
to  which  they  were  opposed  almost  as  a  unit.  Mr.  Bogan, 
though  a  native  of  Maine,  had  been  living  in  the  town  of 
Etowah  since  his  childhood,  and  in  early  life  had  been  an 
alderman.  Kind-hearted,  generous  and  honest,  his  was  a. 
jovial  nature,  and  his  heart  was  prjmpt  in  response  to  ap- 
peals to  his  charity.  He  would  help  the  orphans  and 
widows  of  Confederate  soldiers  while  roundly  abusing  the 
government  which  slaughtered  them,  and  he  was  the  one 
man  in  the  community  who  always  spoke  of  the  Confed- 
erates as  "Rebels."  His  remarks  produced  collisions  between 
strangers  and  his  friends,  all  Confederate  soldiers,  but  no 
one  had  ever  heard  of  Mr.  Bogan  as  a  combatant  or  dis- 
turber of  the  peace.  He  said  nothing  to  promote  discord  or 
hatred  between  the  races,  because  all  such  feelings  were  for- 
eign to  his  heart.  But  he  was  an  ignorant  man,  and  uncon- 
sciously became  the  tool  to  work  the  ends  of  the  four  men 
present.  Two  of  these — George  AVashburn  and  John  Hef- 
flin — are  known  to  the  reader. 

Mr,  Bogan  was  requested  by  these  two  to  address  the  audi- 
ence. The  lightwood  knots,  held  by  a  negro  attendant,  sent 
a  flickering  light  and  added  to  the  grotesqueness  of  his  ro- 
tund figure  as  bis  jolly  face  met  the  gaze  of  his  attentive 


302       .  ETOWAH. 

listeners,  who  had  never  before  been  addressed  in  a  public 
speech  by  a  white  man,  except  the  pre ichcs  employed  to 
pre  ch  to  them  b}^  their  masters. 

When  he  b 'gan  his  speech  by  the  usual  words,  "Felljw- 
citizens,"  Washburn  and  the  other  white  men  cried:  ''Hur- 
rah !  that's  the  w^ay  to  talk  ;  niggers  are  citizens  now  and 
the  ekals  of  anybody  !" 

This  excited  the  negroes,  who  were  ready  to  respond  to 
Washburn's  suggestions. 

"Fellows-citizens!  I  had  a  turrible  headache  last  night  and 
couldn't  make  no  preparations,  and  so  I  will  have  to  address 
you  externally.  Fellow-citizens,  when  Columbus  discov- 
ered Amf-rica,  and  landed  on  Plymouth  Reck,  he  proclaimed 
all  men  ekal,  disrespective  of  color  (cries  of  'hurrah,'  and 
'is  d  it  so?')  while  at  the  same  time  Virginia  put  her  foot  on 
the  neck  of  a  nigger  and  exclaime  1,  'Sic  semi^er  iyrannisP 
But,  my  friends,  before  you  shall  be  disrefranchised  of  your 
rights  to  vote  in  this  land  of  liberty,  the  blood  that  coerces 
in  the  veins  of  four  million  of  fr^ed  niggers  shall  coagulate 
on  our  country's  soil  1" 

Sensation  and  gesticulation  among  the  audience  followed 
this  eloquent  flight.  Mopping  his  forehead  the  orator  con- 
tinued: "Great  is  Dinah  and  the  Ephesians,  but  greater 
still  is  the  power  of  a  full  ballot  and  a  free  count. 

"As  an  officer,  as  a  postmaster  under  this  galorious govern- 
ment, I  declare  to  you,  we  are  all  going  to  be  better  off  than 
we  have  ever  been  before. 

"I  have  a  fine  place  in  the  hubbubs  of  the  city,  and  I  am 
going  to  live  there  like  a  king.  Every  American  citizen  is 
a  king — a  suvren.  I  have  a  fine  mineral  spring  there, 
which  contains  fths  hydrophobia  and  frds  oxesgas;  and 
I  am  going  to  improve  the  grounds  by  laying  out  a  broad 


ETOWAH.  •  303 

revenue  from  the  spring  to  the  house  with  turpentine  walks 
•on  each  side.  I  shall  improve  the  house  by  adding  a  por- 
torico  and  a  mansion  roof  with  a  preservatory  on  top,  and 
"wh^n  the  work  is  replete  I  shall  retire  from  public  affairs 
^nd  lead  a  dysentery  life.  I  intend  to  improve  Etowah,  too. 
lam  going  to  degrade  the  streets  and  walk  them  lil^e  a 
suvren.  I  invite  you  all  to  my  next  barbecue  on  next  fourth 
of  July.  If  it  happens,  though,  that  you  can't  come  the  first 
week  we  celebrate  fourth  of  July,  we  will  have  another  fourth 
of  July  the  next  Saturday.  So  good-night,  my  colored  fel- 
low citizens." 

Mr.  Bogan  then  descended  from  the  stand  and  was  greeted 
with  prolonged  applause. 

It  would  have  been  well  had  the  sp-aking  censed  with  this 
good,  but  badly  advised  man's  speech.  But  the  real  object 
of  the  leaders  was  now  apparent,  and  Washburn's  speech 
was  full  of  cruelty  and  vile  suggestions.  He  pictured  to 
"them  all  the  horrors  of  slavery  in  its  worst  aspects,  and  ap- 
pealed to  their  cupi  lity  by  telling  them  that  the  land  was 
theirs  rightfully,  but  unless  thf^y  bmdei  together  as  one 
man  in  a  secret  societ}'',  political  in  nature,  they  could  nev-er 
possess  it,  but  their  fate  would  be  like  that  of  the  Indians, 
who  had  already  been  driven  from  the  country  which  was 
rig'itfully  theirs.  As  he  sp  )ke,  his  mastiff-like  face  assumed 
a  ferocity  of  expression  which  recalled  to  a  few  the  cruelties 
which  many  of  their  race  had  suffered  at  his  hands,  but  the 
miass  was  carried  away  by  excitement  and  the  occasion 
seemed  ominous  of  evil,  as  he  appealed  to  them  to  arm  them- 
selves and  secure  their  rights  by  force. 

Hefflin's  address  was  entirely  different,  and  appealed  in 
-cunning  suggestions  to  their  evil  passions  and  to  their  fears. 
After  assuring  them  that  the  black  man  was  in  all  respects 


804  ETOWAH. 

the  equal  of  his  former  master,  he  endeavored  to  convince? 
them  that  the  government  would  require  payment  to  thena; 
for  the  years  of  labor  already  done,  and  would  confiscate  all 
property  and  give  it  to  them  if  they  would  band  together  in 
secret  "Loyal  Leagues."  "  You  need  not  procure  fire-arms,"' 
he  concluded,  'but  here  is  the  weapon  with  which  you  can 
destro}^,  and  kill,  and  ruin  without  danger  to  yourselves."" 
As  he  said  this  he  held  before  their  excited  gaze  a  blazing: 
torch!     The  suggestion  was  greeted  with  yells  of  delight. 

The  third  man  to  speak  said  he  wore  a  mask  for  their  ben- 
efit only,  as  his  presence,  if  known,  would  defeat  all  their 
purpose?.  His  language  led  them  to  believe  that  he  was  a 
young  slaveholder,  who  desired  to  right  the  wrongs  under- 
which  they  had  so  long  labored,  and  with  that  purpose  was 
ready  to  join  their  Leagues  and  administer  to  them  the  oath' 
of  allegiance  thereto. 

So  well  was  he  disguised  that  not  one  of  them  suspected- 
that  he  was  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts. 

The  fourth  man  also  wore  a  mask,  and  it  was  not  until  he- 
threw  off  his  long  overcoat,  and  then  his  mask,  that  the 
negroes  discovered  that  he  was  not  a  white  man,  but  the 
long  absent  and  greatly  admired  Hallback.  He  was  dressed' 
in  the  uniform  of  a  captain  of  cavalry,  and  he  looked  every 
inch  the  soldier. 

He  was  greeted  with  a  storm  of  applause  and  they  seized 
him  and  bore  him  upon  their  shoulders.  But  before  he 
begun  his  speech  there  was  a  commotion  among  the  negroes,, 
their  ranks  parted,  the  burly  form  of  "Uncle  Barney" 
ascended  the  stand,  and  he  stood  before  them  and  faced  them^ 
with  the  dignity  of  a  king. 

Bowing  to  Hallback,  he  said — "My  son,  I  beg  your  pardon,, 
and  3'ou  my  friends — I  have  but  a  few  more  years  to  live,. 


ETOWAH.  305 

and  I  say  what  I  do  now  with  regret,  but  with  no  fear  of  any 
mortal  man  ;  if  you  do  not  wish  to  hear  me  speak ;  I  will  be 
silent,  and  never  again  will  I  raise  my  feeble  voice  to  help 
and  counsel  with  you."  He  paused,  but  the  crowd  cried: 
*'Go  on,  Uncle  Barney,  go  on  !"  when  Washburn,  with  fero- 
cious look,  ordered  him  to  get  down  and  cease.  The  look 
and  voice  was  that  of  a  brutal  overseer,  and  this  time  Wash- 
burn overshot  the  mark,  for  Hallback  stepped  forward  and 
said: 

"You  shall  not  interrupt  him,''  but  his  voice  was  arrested 
a"  the  old  man  placed  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder  and  gently 
moved  him  aside.  Folding  his  arms  across  his  breast,  he 
looked  Washburn  in  the  eye  and  said,  with  a  voice  clear  and 
loud,  but  marvelously  tranquil,  "Are  you  my  master  ?'  To 
this  question  there  was  no  response,  and  the  old  man  con- 
tinued :  "My  friends,  you  and  I  have  been  slaves  all  our 
lives,  but  none  of  us  were  ever  spoken  to  in  that  rough  way 
by  our  masters.  He  tells  us  that  he  is  our  best  friend,  and 
that  we  are  free,  and  urges  upon  us  to  assert  our  rights,  and  in- 
cites us  to  murderous  thought?.  My  good  friends,  remember 
George  Standback!  There  stands  his  murderer!" 

There  was  a  flash,  a  pistol  report,  and  the  old  hero  tottered 
and  fell  in  the  arms  of  Hallback,  shot  by  the  murderer  ofhis 
nephew !  The  excitement  was  so  great,  the  forest  so  near, 
the  night  so  dark,  that  the  assassin  escaped,  and  confusion^ 
reigned. 

But  the  seeds  sown  of  that  eventful  night  found  a  lodge- 
ment in  a  soil  which  bore  fruit,  but  the  day  of  reckoning 
had  not  yet  come  for  Mr.  Washburn. 

With  him  fled  his  masked  associate,  and  the  meeting 
adjourned  as  a  political  meeting^  and  resolved  itself  into  a 

20 


306  ETOWAH. 

mourning  body  of  weeping  naen  as  they  gathered  around  the 
dying  martyr. 

The  gentle  hearted  Mr.  Bogan,  with  tears,  aided  Hallback 
to  make  him  comfortable,  pulling  off  his  coat,  despite  the 
night  air,  and  placing  it  under  the  dying  man's  head.  HefF- 
lin  went  to  and  fro  pledging  himself  to  procure  the  arrest 
and  punishment  of  the  murderer  The  dying  preacher  par- 
tially raised  himself,  and,  in  a  voice  that  seemed  superhu- 
man, bide  them  all  farewell,  and  gave  them  his  bles-ing, 
mingled  with  words  of  peace  and  love. 

The  grief  of  Hallback  at  the  sudden  death  of  his  staunch 
old  friend  was  too  great  at  first  to  permit  him  to  pursue  the 
fugitive,  and  finally,  as  the  limbs  became  rigid,  and  he  gave 
orders  for  making  a  litter  to  bear  the  body  of  his  aged  friend 
home,  he  was  he  ird  to  say  in  muttered  undertone : 

''He  shall  die  for  this!"  As  he  spoke  he  perceived  at  his 
side  the  sinister,  but  fearless  face  of  John  Hefflin,  who  added  : 

"Yes;  he  deserves  to  die  the  death." 

A  look  of  disgust  and  contempt  was  the  only  answer  Hall- 
back gave,  for  he  instinctively  felt  that  this  was  an  appeal 
for  protection,  as  the  angry  negroes  were  ready  to  revenge 
the  death  of  faithful  old  Barney,  who  had  been  their  trusted 
counselor  all  their  lives,  by  slaying  Heffiin.  Escape  was 
impossible,  for  he  was  completely  surprised  at  the  unex- 
pected murder.  A  word  from  Hallback  meant  life  or  death 
to  Heffiin,  but  there  was  that  in  his  eyes  which  said  plainly  : 
''  1  will  sell  my  life  dearly ;  I  will  never  surrender  alive." 
Reflecting  a  moment,  Hallback  said  to  him,  pointing  to  the 
path  in  the  forest  which  led  to  Etowah  : 

"  There  is  your  path,  follow  your  accomplices ;  this  is  ours  : 
leave  us  alone  with  our  dead."    Heffiin  hesitated,  and  the 


ETOWAH.  307 

young  man,  losing  patience,  said  to  him  :     "  Did  you  not  hear 
me?    Go!" 

Without  a  wordinre-ponse  Heffiin  turned, and  with  a  sul- 
len look  of  defiance  entered  the  fore-t  and  disappeared. 

Slowly  the  cortege,  lighted  by  half  a  hundred  pine  torches, 
made  their  way  to  the  plantation,  with  no  secrecy  in  their 
movements,  until  they  reached  the  humble  home  of  '"Uncle 
Earney,"  and  there  deposited  his  body. 

A  thousand  people  mourned  his  loss  as  that  of  a  relative, 
and  the  white  citizens  of  Etowah,  which  was  now  garrisoned 
by  a  negro  regiment,  felt  that  their  most  conservative  m  n 
Tiad  fallen. 

Assassination  had  proved  their  most  terrible  foe.  First,  in 
'the  death  of  the  great-hearted  Abraham  Lincoln,  who  felt  to 
all  mankindthatlofty  charity,  epitomized  by  the  expression, 
^'  With  malice  to  none,  and  charity  for  all;"  and  now  by  the 
•death  of  this  simple-hearted  old  hero,  whose  black  skin  made 
him  none  the  less  nature's  nobleman.  Could  he  have  lived, 
anany  of  the  incidents  that  are  narrated  in  succeeding  chap- 
ters might  not  have  happened.  Could  Lincoln  have  lived 
t)  have  "rounded  out"  the  great  work  of  his  life,  the  South 
might  have  been  spared  the  odious  tyrannies  of  "  reconstruc- 
tion "  which  destroyed  that  peace  and  prosperity  which 
seemed  to  have  so  rapidly  followed  war.  The  world  honor ■; 
the  memory  of  Lincoln,  and  in  bronze  and  in  marble  will 
his  memory  be  perpetuated  by  an  appreciative  people;  but 
none  the  less  heroic,  none  the  less  magnanimous  in  his  lim- 
ited sphere,  was  the  unlettered,  gentle-hearted  leader  of  his 
|)eople,  "Uncle  Barney." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

god's  acre. 

"No  more  shall  the  war  cry-sever, 
Or  the  winding  rivers  be  red ; 
They  banish  our  anger  forever 

"When  they  laurel  the  graves  of  our  dead 

Under  the  sod  and  the  dew, 

Waiting  the  judgment  day ; 
Under  the  blossoms,  the  blue  ; 

Under  the  garlands,  the  gray." 

The  beautiful  custom  of  decorating  the  graves  of  the  Con-^ 
federate  and  Federal  dead  originated  in  the  town  of  Etowah 
on  the  anniversary  of  its  fall. 

Owing  to  the  absence  of  Julia  Dearing,  the  wedding  cere- 
monv,  which  had  united  Henrv  Latane  to  Clara  Leslie  a 
month  before,  was  very  quiet,  only  the  members  of  the  two 
families  being  present,  with  Colonel  Birnum  as  "best  man." 

The  whole  populace  seemed  en  route  to  the  cemetery  on 
"  Decoration  Day,"  and  every  garden  in  the  city  contributed 
flowers  to  decorate  the  graves.  Henry  Latane  was  the  orator 
selected,  and  he  reluctantly  consented  to  deliver  the  address. 

After  the  opening  prayer  a  chorus  of  voices  sang  "  The- 
Conquered  Banner :" 

''  Furl  that  banner,  for  'tis  weary, 
Round  its  staff  'tis  drooping,  dreary, 

Furl  it,  fold  it,  it  is  best ; 
For  there's  not  a  man  to'wave  it, 
And  there's  not  a  soul  to  save  it, 
And  there's  not  o 


ETOWAH.  309 

In  the  blood  that  heroes  gave  it, 
Fur  it,  hide  it,  let  it  rest ! 

Furl  that  banner  softly,  slowly, 
Treat  it  gently,  it  is  holy, 

For  it  droops  above  the  dead ; 
Touch  it  not,  unfurl  it  never. 
Let  it  droop  there  furled  forever !" 

After  a  few  preliminary  reniarks  gracefully  spoken,  the 
•orator  of  the  occasion  said  : 

'*  The  conquered  banner  lies  folded  away  in  the  memories 
of  those  who  ventured  all  to  sustain  it.  It  has  the  calm 
■veneration  of  many  thousands  of  brave  men,  but  it  is  furled 
forever,  and  the  once  Confederates  have  accepted  the  old 
:flag  again.  France,  after  the  greatest  successes  in  history, 
submitted  to  overwhelming  force;  so  did  the  Confederacy. 
The  hete  noire  of  the  old  Union  exists  no  longer.  The  once 
slave  has  become  a  citizen  whose  rights  are  respected,  despite 
the  wild  cantings  of  the  shriekers  to  the  contrary. 

'^  'Lord  of  himself,  that  heritage  of  woe,'  he  has  the  proud 
privilege  of  the  white  man,  his  former  owner  and  master, 
of  working  out  his  own  destiny.  If  left  to  those  who  un- 
derstand the  peculiarities  of  his  character,  he  will  have  a 
future  of  comparative  ease,  and  will  work  out  that  future 
with  the  kindly  sympathy  of  the  children  of  those  wLose 
families  were  left  so  completely  to  his  fidelity  and  known 
.attachment  while  the  owner  and  master  was  in  the  ranks  at 
the  front. 

''  In  this  connection  I  will  quote  from  a  recent  opponent, 
the  occasion  being  the  dedication  of  a  soldiers'  monument 
in  a  Northern  city.  Every  true  Confederate  soldier  will  en- 
'dorse  it,  as  I  do  :'  I  once,  entered  a  house  in  old  Massachusetts, 


310  ETOWAH. 

where  over  its  doors  were  two  crossed  swords.  One  was  the- 
sword  carried  by  the  grand-father  of  its  owner  on  the  field 
of  Bunker  Hill,  and  the  other  was  the  sword  carried  by  the- 
English  grand-sire  of  the  wife  on  the  same  field  and  on  the- 
other  side  of  the  conflict.  Under  those  crossed  swords,  in 
the  restored  harmony  of  domestic  peace,  lived  a  happy  and 
contented  and  free  family  under  the  light  of  our  republican 
liberties. 

"  '  I  trust  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when,  under  the 
crossed  swords  and  the  locked  shields  of  Americans,  North 
and  South,  our  people  shall  sleep  in  peace  and  rise  in  liberty, 
love  and  harmonv  under  the  Union  as  our  forefathers- 
made  it.' 

"And  yet  we  would  be  craven  indf^ed  did  we  not  glory  in. 
the  achievements  oi  the  soldiers  of  the  'Lost  Cause.' 

'•'It  may  be  for  the  best  that  we  failed  to  establish  our  in- 
dependence, but  let  us  never  dishonor  the  layal  patriotism 
to  their  States  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Confederacy.  Teach 
that  to  your  children  that  they  were  neither  rebels  nor 
traitors,  but  martyred  patriots  of  a  just  and  righteous 
cause — the  grand  cause  of  constitutional  liberty."  (Cheers 
greeted  the  orator's  words  at  this  sentence,  and  several  min- 
utes elapsed  before  be  could  resume.)  "My  comrades  being 
in  thorough  accord  with  me  in  this  sentiment,  I  feel  author- 
ized to  say  for  them,  that  having  accepted  the  results  of  the 
war  in  the  utmost  good  faith,  their  sacred  honor  is  thereby 
pledged  to  the  support  of  the  Government  of  the  United 
States,  without  any  mental  reservation  or  evasion  whatso- 
ever, and  should  occasion  require,  they  would  cheerfully  re- 
sume their  arms  in  its  defence  against  any  foreign  or  do- 
mestic foe.  But  we  respectfully  decline  to  change  our  nature 
and  assume  a  character  not  our  own ;  to  act  the  spaniel  tbat 


ETOWAH.  311 

fawns  upon  and  kisses  the  hand  that  smites  him ;  and  so 
far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  will  never,  so  help  me  God,  bow 
down  to  a  golden  calf  bespangled  with  the  alluring  name  of 
'  the  new  South.'     (Cheers.) 

''Appomattox!  what  memories  cluster  around  the  name! 
The  ten  thousand  veterans,  with  their  bullet-scarred  flags, 
were  «s  eager  to  meet  in  mortal  combat  the  fifty  thousand 
troops  that  immediately  confronted  them  on  that  bright 
April  day,  with  a  half  million  more  troops  behind  them,  as 
at  any  time  during  the  four  years  of  war  when  their  ban- 
ner had  been  a  '  pillar  of  cloud  by  t'ny  and  a  pillar  of  fire  by 
night.'  They  deemed  General  Lee  invincible,  and  in  their 
hearts  they  echoed  the  cry  of  the  '  Old  Guard '  at  Waterloo  : 
'  The  Old  Guard  dies,  but  never  surrenders !  '• 

"  But  they  had  never  disobeyed  Lee. 

"  General  Lee  now  ordered  them  to  lay  down  their  arms! 
Then,  in  a  moment,  quick  as  the  dreai  throes  of  an  earth- 
quake, which  destroys  in  one  minute  the  work  of  thousand 
of  people  for  a  century,  in  a  moment  that  command  con- 
vinced those  whom  four  years  of  the  hardest  fought  battles 
could  not  convince,  that  the  cau^e  for  which  they  had  thus 
battled  was  lost. 

"  If  it  was  lost,  all  seemed  lost ! 

"  So  seemed  it  to  the  despairing  disciples  in  the  dark  days 
which  succeeded  the  crucifixion — that  hope  had  been  buried 
forever  in  the  tomb  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea. 

"  'We  trusted,'  said  they,  as  they  walked  to  Emmaus,  'that 
it  had  been  He  who  should  have  redeemed  Israel.'  And 
little  did  they  dream  that  at  that  instant  the  risen  Saviour 
walked  by  their  side  to  redeem,  not  only  Israel,  but  the 

orld. 

''So  with  the  character  of  Lee— it  will  not  die.  When  Titus, 


312  ETOWAH. 

then  at  the  head  of  his  Roman  legions,  broke  down  the 
walls  of  the  Holy  City,  and  ran  his  plowshare  over  the  site 
of  King  Solomon's  temple ;  or  later,  when  Cortez  overthrew 
the  Aztec  idols  in  the  temple  of  Montezuma's  capital,  it 
seemed  to  bury  out  of  sight  the  faith,  the  hopes  and  the  as- 
pirations of  the^e  peoples. 

"And  when  Rome  bowed  before  the  conquering  hordes  of 
Hun  and  Vandal,  led  on  by  the  ruthless  and  savage  Attilla, 
who  swept  over  all  the  countries  from  the  Euxine  to  the  Adri- 
atic, the  flame  of  invasion,  '  The  March  to  the  Sea,^  it  seemed 
that  the  sun  of  civilization  had  gjne  down  forever  in  a  sea  of 
blood !  And  yet  out  of  these  desolations  have  sprung  purer 
forms  of  religious  worship  and  hiiihsr  types  of  civilization. 

"For  eighty  years  the  South  gave  to  the  Government  of  the 
United  States  its  ablest  generals,  its  wisest  statesmen,  its 
most  learned  jurists. 

"At  the  second  Centennial  it  ma}^  appear  that  the  conserv- 
ative South  will  be  the  anchor  of  the  Nation  and  preserve 
it  from  centralized  power.  When  Greece  -was  invaded  by 
Xerxes,  the  Athenians  in  their  extremity  recalled  Aristidtt^ 
from  the  banishment  into  which  thev  had  forced  him,  and 
placed  him  at  the  head  of  their  armies.  In  the  magnanim- 
ity of  his  nature  he  forgave  the  wrongs  his  country  had  done 
him,  threw  himself  into  the  breach,  and  upon  the  plains  of 
Salamis  and  Platea,  rescued  the  liberties  of  his  country  and 
expelled  the  invader  from  her  soil. 

"Appomattox!  out  of  the  tomb  of  our  buried  hopes  will 
spring  the  germ  of  truth  which  seemed  crushed  forever  when 
that  brave  little  army  laid  down  its  arms,  and  the  magnani- 
mous victor  pronounced  them  '  Overcome,  but  not  con- 
quered!' Appomattox!  the  tree  of  American  liberty  will 
yet  grow  into  proportions  it  never  would  have  attained  but 


ETOWAH.  313 

for  the  blood  and  the  tears  with  which  a  devoted  people 
ivatered  it.  The  gallant  deeds  of  the  American  soldier, 
;South  and  North,  are  a  common  heritage  of  all  Americans. 

"Stoop  angels,  hither  from  the  skies; 
There  is  no  holier  spot  of  ground 
Than  where  defeated  valor  lies; 
Embalmed  in  love,  by  children  crowned." 

As  the  speaker  ceased,  the  graves  of  the  Confederate  dead 
•were  decorated.  Poor  factory  operatives,  walking  amid  the 
richest  people  in  the  town,  brought  their  garlands  of  flowers 
"to  decorate  the  graves  of  the  dead  soldiers.  Little  children 
•dressed  in  white,  side-by-side  withvthe  aged,  tcatttred  their 
floral  tributes  promiscuously  over  the  graves  of  the  "Un- 
tnown  Dead,"  in  the  soldier's  corner.  On  the  oaken  head- 
boards were  simply  inscribed  the  names  of  the  dead  and  on 
the  battle-fields  where  they  fiad  been  killed.  Two  graves  in 
a  private  lot  were  made  prominent  by  two  white  shafts  of 
Carrara  marble.  Upon  one  was  inscribed  the  name  of  Pri- 
vate Charles  Latane;  the  other  bore  the  name  of  Lieutenant 
Charles  Vincent. 

The  patrician  was  a  private  soldiex;  the  plebeian  a  lieu- • 
tenant.  Naar  by  was  the  monument  which  marked  the  last 
resting  place  of  Hugh  Leslie.  As  the  children  sang,  "Holy 
Mother,  Guide  his  Footsteps  "—as  if  it  was  done  by  design — 
a  travel-stained  figure  could  be  seen  entering  the  cemetery 
and  approaching  the  group  where  stood  Mr.  and  Mrs  Henry 
Latane  and  Colonel  Leslie.  The  old  negro  wore  a  faded  Fed- 
eral army  coat  with  brass  buttons,  a  white  beaver  hat,  and 
pantaloons  of  many  colors  and  manv  patches.  Over  his 
shoulder  was  borne  upon  a  stick  a  bundle  containing  cloth- 
ing, and  the  white  wool   beneath  the  hat  made  the  latter 


^14  ETOWAH. 

appear  darker  than  it  was.  So  earnest  and  intent  on  reach>- 
ing  the  group  in  time  was  he  that  he  raised  the  dust  before 
him,  as  he  shuffled  along  as  rapidly  as  his  aged  limbs  would 
bear  him.  At  last  he  reached  them  and,  taking  off  his  hat 
and  leaning  on  his  stick,  scraping  the  ground  with  one  fout 
as  he  bowed  low,  the  old  darkey  sa'd : 

"Howdy.  Marster;  howdy,  Mars  Harry;  howd}^,  young 
Mistiss;  I  like  to  not  got  here  in  time     How  does  you  all  do?" 

Henry  Latane,  who  had  be^n  talking  to  some  friends  and 
had  his  back  to  the  old  negro,  turned,  extended  his  hand,, 
and  said : 

'  Clara,  this  is  Uncle  Zek^" 

Clara  went  to  the  old*  man  and  shook  hands  with  him  in- 
stantly, and  said : 

"Uncle  Zeke,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you ;  how  is  Hezekiah  ? 
and  how  is  your  farm  doing?  and  how  are  you  ?" 

"  Poorly,  Miss  Cally,  poorly,  thank  de  Lord !  but  middlin.' 
well  considerin  of  de  pain  in  my  jints  from  de  rheumatiz. 
De  farm,  what  your  pa  gin  me,  and  de  stock  and  de  crap,  alL 
is  doin'  well  as  I  could  want  em  to.  As  fur  Hez,  he  never 
was  no  other  way  but  w^ell." 

Then  old  Zeke  looked  around  the  vast  assemblage  and 
nodded  to  several,  but  spoke  to  none  except  his  "  young 
marster  and  young  mistiss,"  as  he  called  Henry  and  Clara. 
Turning  to  Clara  again,  he  said  :  "Scatterin'  of  flowers  over 
de  graves?"  This  last  remark  was  accompanied  by  an  incli- 
nation of  the  head  toward  a  group  who  w^ere  decorating  the 
graves  at  the  "Soldiers'  Corner." 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Zeke ;  don't  you  wdsh  to  help  us  ?" 

"  Miss  Cally,  I  does;  dat  is  my  business  here  to-day.  I 
dug  de  graves  of  Mars  Hugh  and  Charlie  Latane,  and  I  would 
like  to  scatter  some  flowers  on  'em.     Flowers  makes  de  pur- 


ETOWAH.  315^ 

tiest  kyarpet  in  de  world,  Mars  Harry,  and  Charlie  was  de 
kindest-hearted  boy — 'ceptin  tis  Mars  Hugh — dat  ole  Zeke 
ever  seed !"  Here  the  old  negro  brushed  away  the  tears  with 
his  coat  sleeve,  and  Clara,  her  own  eyes  filled  with  tears,  of- 
fered him  all  the  flowers  she  had. 

It  was  a  touching  scene  when  this  faithful  old  slave,  the 
onl}^  negro  in  all  that  assemblage,  many  of  whom  grasped 
his  hand  and  spoke  to  him  kindly,  proposed  to  decorate 
Hugh  Leslie's  grave. 

"Mars  Harry,  de  '  Union  League'  has  forbid  all  us  nig- 
gers from  helpin'  Dimmycrats,  but  dese  two  boys  icarnt 
Dimmycrats.  And,  Mars  Harry,  if  Hugh  ?nd  Charlie  ivus 
Dimmycrats,  I'd  do  it  anyhow !  and  I  am  as  good  a  Repub- 
likin  as  any  on  'em,  so  fur  as  dis  life  is  consarned ;  I'll  be 
blamed  fur  it  I  know,  but  I'd  do  it  if  dey  killed  me !" 

Then  the  old  negro,  taking  the  flowers  from  Clara's  basket, 
knelt  beside  the  grave  of  the  gallant  youth — the  son  of  his 
former  master — and  arranged  the  flowers  in  the  form  of  a 
cross  upon  the  tomb  over  his  head. 

He  seemed  obli  vious  of  all  the  people  who  crowded  around 
him  to  witness  this  unusual  scene,  and,  clasping  his  hands 
before  his  face  and  looking  upward  with  pious  zeal,  he  ut- 
tered a  prayer  in  the  negro  dialect,  so  fervent  and  sincere  in 
its  appeals  to  God  in  behalf  of  the  dead  hero,  that  men  in- 
voluntarily took  off  their  hats  and  women  wept. 

For  pathos  and  earnestness  this  scene  cannot  be  excelled, 
and  long  after  this  "pattern  of  old  Fidelity"  shall  himself  be 
laid  away  in  his  grave,  he  will  be  remembered  wdth  grateful 
respect  by  all  who  witnessed  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

"  MY   SON,    EMILE." 

Now  came  the  test  which  proved  beyond  a  doubt  that 
'Barnum's  love  for  Julia  Bearing  was  deep,  sincere  and  un- 
influenced by  any  interested  motive  other  than  that  love 
which  most  honors  humanity.  He  was  poor,  and  his  army 
record  was  second  to  none  of  the  same  rank  in  the  armies  of 
the  Union.  Every  hope  of  promotion,  either  in  civil  or  po- 
litical life,  every  prudent  reason  bade  him  attend  strictly  to 
his  official  duties  and  avoid  the  expression  of  any  interest  in 
passing  events  which  "cast  their  shadows  before." 

If  Barnum  evinced  any  interest  at  all  in  the  policy  out- 
lined by  the  reconstruction  acts,  every  politic  thought  would 
have  urged  him  to  espouse  the  side  of  proscription  and  join 
the  Radical  hosts  which  seem  bent  on  sowing  the  seeds  of 
insurrection  and  discontent,  and  which  promised  to  bring 
about  bloody  collisions  between  the  races  at  the  South. 

But  Barnum  flung  prudence  to  the  winds,  obtained  a 
leave  of  absence — the  first  he  had  asked  for  in  years — and, 
instead  of  going  home  to  see  the  loved  ones  there,  departed 
for  New  Orleans  in  search  of  the  high-spirited  girl  whom  he 
now  knew  that  he  loved  with  all  the  passion  and  all  the 
earnestness  of  his  nature.  He  informed  Colonel  Leslie  of  his 
purpose  in  an  open,  manly  way  that  won  that  gentleman's 
confidence  entirelv.  Pressinsr  his  hand  warmlv  he  could 
only  say  :  "God  bless  and  God-speed  you.  Colonel  Barnum ! 
I  know  of  no  man  whom  I  would  rather  see  the  guardian  of 
<her  happiness." 


ETOWAH.  317" 

Bruton  Stewart  had  taken  it  as  a  settled  fact  that  Julia  ■ 
was  the  fiancee  of  Colonel  Barnum,  and,  in  spite  of  his  efforts 
to  appear  unconcerned,  his  studied  courtesy  seemed  to  her 
coldly  formal,  and  she  ceased  to  regard  him  as  other  than  a 
casual  friend.  But  now  that  he  had  learned  of  her  depart- 
ure and  the  circumstances  attending  it,  his  manly  sense  of 
loyalty  re-asserted  itself,  and  he,  too,  called  upon  Colonel 
Leslie  and  announced  that  his  purpose  was  to  offer  his  hand 
in  marriage.  "Colonel  Leslie,"  said  he,  "she  is  the  loveliest 
and  most  superb  woman  I  ever  knew.  I  thought  I  had 
conquered  this  old  boyish  fancy  of  mine — for  I  have  dreamed 
about  her  for  ten  years — but  when  I  saAv  that  this  con- 
founded stranger.  Colonel  Barnum,  was  seeking  to  win  her, 
I  learned  that  I  could  not  banish  my  hopes." 

'Have  you  told  Julia  this.  General?" 

"No,  sir ;  I  have  not   said  a   word  of  love  to  her  in  four 


ii' 

55 


years 


Then,  my  friend,  I  think  your  course  has  lost  your  chan- 
ces. Festina  lente  won't  do  in  courtship.  If  a  man  wants  to 
win  a  woman's  love,  he  must  avow  his  love  and  lovallv  seek 
to  win  hers.  It  is  a  matter  of  conquest,  not  pleading,  in 
my  judgment;  candor  must  be  my  excuse  for  plain 
speaking." 

"Pardon  me ;  I  see  that  I  have  made  myself  ridiculous,  but 
permit  me  to  ask  :  Is  Miss  Bearing  engaged  to  any  one  ?" 

"Not  that  I  am  aware  of,'  replied  her  guardian.  "In 
truth,  I  have  no  idea  where  she  is  at  present,  but  I  appreci- 
ate your  feelings  in  the  matter,  and  if  Colonel  Barnum  does 
not  succeed,  I  hope  that  you  may." 

"Then  you  would  approve  of  her  union  with  Colonel 
Barnum  ?" 

Colonel  Leslie's  haughtiness  returned  to  him  as  he  answer- 


318  ETOWAH. 

ed :  "General  Stewart,  I  think  you  forget  that  that  is  a 
question  which  you  have  no  right  to  ask.  But  I  will  say 
that  there  is  no  man  living  for  w^hom  I  entertain  a  greater 
respect  than  for  Colonel  Barnum.  He  is  one  of  nature's 
^noblemen." 

Stew^art's  nobler  instincts  came  to  his  aid  now  as  he  said, 
"Forgive  me,  Colonel  Leslie ;  I  do  not  mean  to  be  rudely 
inquisitive.  I  realize  my  shortcomings  and  the  folly  that 
my  pride  has  proved.  I  did  not  imagine,  until  very  recent- 
ly, that  any  one  was  aspiring  to  win  her.  Now  that  I  am 
informed,  I  must,  in  justice  to  myself,  echo  your  remark, 
there  is  no  man  living  more  worthy  of  our  respect  and 
confidence  than  Colonel  Barnum." 

They  shook  hands  warmly  and  thus  Stewart  abandoned 
the  search. 

It  was  the  loyalty  of  the  gentleman,  not  the  ardor  of  the 
lover,  which  prompted  Bruton  Stew^art  to  make  this  avowal. 
It  was  the  ardor  of  the  lover  which  led  Barnum  irresistiblv 
to  New  Orleans. 

A  week  and  another  w^eek  had  elapsed  since  Colonel  Bar- 
num's  arrival  in  New  Orleans.  Not  a  day,  not  an  hour  had 
been  wasted,  and  yet  he  could  find  no  clue  to  Julia  Bearing's 
retreat.  Finally  a  friend  suggested  to  him  to  call  upon  the 
pastors  of  the  various  Episcopal  churches  in  the  city  and 
inquire  if  she  was  a  communicant  or  member  of  their  con- 
gregations. Ordinarily  he  would  have  laughed  at  the  idea 
as  impracticable ;  for  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  in  a 
^reat  city  like  New  Orleans,  a  new^  comer  would  be  noticed. 
But  Julia  was  not  an  ordinary  person,  and  her  great  beauty 
and  distinguished  bearing  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
reverend  gentleman  who  presided  at  the  church  where  Mrs. 
LaGrange  worshipped.     The  pastor  had  noticed  a  strikingly 


'       ETOWAH.  31t) 

Jiandsome  girl  who  seemed  to  be  the  governess  of  two  chil- 
•dren — for  pastors,  like  other  people,  are  not  insensible  to 
beauty.  But  who  she  was,  or  whence  she  came,  he  had  not 
yet  found  out. 

•'Stay,"  he  remarked  to  Colonel  Barnum  ;  "I  remember 
now,  she  occupies  the  pew  of  Mrs.  LaG range." 

Barnum  attended  service  at  the  church  the  next  day  and 
occupied  a  place  in  the  gallery  whence  he  could  survey  nearly 
all  the  church  without  attracting  attention  himself.  The 
bishop  of  the  diocese  preached  that  day  and  the  church 
was  crowded.  He  did  not  have  long  to  wait ;  he  would 
liave  known  that  figure  among  ten  thousand,  and  a  flood  of 
conflicting  emotions  rushed  upon  him  as  the  modest  but 
stately  girl,  with  the  air  of  an  empress,  walked  up  the  aisle, 
preceded  by  two  little  girls.  Then,  adapting  herself  to  the 
situation,  they  entered  a  pew  as  naturally  as  if  this  relation 
was  not  a  new  one  for  Julia  to  assume.  Presently  a  corpu- 
lent, fussy-looking  lady  entered  the  pew  just  behind  them, 
.and  after  much  ado  about  nothing,  succeeded  in  seating 
herself  to  her  satisfaction.  Then  followed  a  vigilant  war 
with  her  fan,  for  the  weather  was  intensely  warm  and 
seemed  hotter  around  this  fat  lady  than  anywhere  else. 
From  his  elevated  seat  he  could  see  the  myriad  fans  doing 
incessant  duty  throughout  the  church,  and,  as  his  eyes 
returned  to  Mrs.  LaGrange,  he  observed  that  no  one  seemed 
so  zealous  and  untiring  as  herself. 

The  calm,  quiet,  listening  interest  which  Julia  evinced  in 
the  interesting  sermon  was  in  striking  contrast  to  the_inter- 
minable  "fluster"  of  Mrs.  LaGrange.  Julia  had  measured 
Tier  at  a  glance,  and  allowed  her  to  have  "all  the  ills  flesh  is 
heir  to,"  to  her  heart's  content,  although  no  woman  in  the 
Crescent  City  gave  better  evidence  than   Mrs.  LaGrange  of 


320  ETOWAH. 

exuberant  health.  She  had  lost  more  children  than  most 
women  have,  and  yet  she  considered  herself  the  only 
woman  on  earth  who  knew  how  to  raise  healthy  children. 

The  enormous  degree  of  piety  which  she  endeavored  to 
instill  in  their  young  minds,  by  precept  rather  than  exam- 
ple, interfered  with  their  pleasures  somewhat  and  with 
their  digestion  more. 

No  one,  however,  could  excel  Mrs.  LaGrange  in  prating 
about  "the  selfishness  of  this  sinful  world!"  And  St.  An- 
thony's experiences  in  resisting  temptation  were  trivial  in 
comparison  with  her  accomplishments  in  that  respect  if  she 
was  competent  authority.  Then,  again,  if  a  draft  was 
dangerous  to  the  health  of  her  children,  the  absence  of  a 
l)lentiful  supply  of  air  was,  she  averred,  suffocation  to  her. 
Hence  the  children  were  consigned  to  the  room  of  their 
governess  at  night.  Altogether,  therefore,  without  knowing 
any  of  these  facts,  Barnum  surmised  that  Miss  Dearing  had 
selected  anything  but  a  bed  of  roses,  and  doubtless  had  a  very 
lively  time  of  it. 

If  Mrs.  LaGrange  did  not  attend  Sunday-school  with  her 
"dear  darlings,"  the  governess  was  required  by  written  instruc- 
tions to  observe  scrupulous  attention  to  these  "absolutely 
essential  spiritual  duties."  Now  appeared  on  the  scene 
Julia's  bete-noire,  a  dainty,  small,  perfumed,  young  Creole 
gentleman.  Monsieur  LaGrange.  Emile  LaGrange  was  his 
mother's  darling,  and  was  madly  in  love  with  Julia  Dearing. 

"My  son,"  she  said  to  him  when  he  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  making  the  pretty  governess  his  wife,  "it  will  break 
my  heart  if  you  disgrace  the   family  by  marrying  a  govern- 


ess." 


"Well,   mother,"   replied   the   efieminate  youth,  "it  will 
break   my   heart  if  I   don't.     The   question  resolves   itself: 


ETOWAH.  321 

into  this :  which  heart  shall  I  break,  yours  or  mine  ?  and, 
in  this  connection,  I  will  repeat  your  favorite  maxim,  'char- 
ity begins  at  home.'  The  upshot  of  this  dialogue,  which 
took  place  the  second  week  after  Julia's  arrival  and  instal- 
lation as  governess  in  this  proud  Creole  family,  was  that  the 
dainty  little  gentleman  was  brought  home  that  evening  from 
the  club  gloriously  intoxicated.  When  he  recovered  the 
next  day  and  his  anxious  mother  entered  his  chamber, 
he  said  to  her  in  a  reproachful  tone :  "Told  you  so,  mother!" 
Then  Mrs.  LaGrange  kissed  him,  and  took  refuge  in  the  for- 
tress of  tears,  thence  to  her  novel,  "Le  Roman  d'un  Jeune 
Homme,"  and  Monsieur  Emile  was  victorious  as  usual.  Since 
he  served  as  a  harmless  diversion  to  Julia,  she  tolerated  his 
admiration  as  something  entirely  new  in  her  varied  experi- 
ence. Itf  was  the  blind  idolatry  of  an  ignoramus,  whose 
sole  redeeming  trait  was  an  exceedingly  amiable  heart. 

This  was  the  status  of  affairs  when  Barnum  arrived  in 
New  Orleans,  and  he  imagined  much  of  it  as  he  viewed  the 
party  from  the  gallery  of  the  church.  The  beautiful  and 
impressive  service  of  the  Episcopal  confirmation  was  finished, 
the  magnificent  organ  pealed  the  sacred  notes,  the  voices  of 
the  well-trained  choir  filled  the  vast  church  with  melody, 
and  the  crowded  throng  prepared  to  make  their  exit. 

In  vain  did  Barnum  endeavor  to  attract  Julia  Bearing's 
attention.  With  a  manner  as  demure  as  if  this  was  her  nat- 
ural place  and  station  in  life,  she  led  the  children  forth,  and 
before  Barnum  had  reached  the  street  the  family  entered 
their  carriage  and  disappeared.  He  lingered  until  the  last 
person  had  left  the  church,  and  slowly  wended  his  way 
back  to  the  St.  Charles  as  much  at  a  loss  as  to  her  place  of 
residence  as  before.     But  he  had  seen  her  once  again   and  to 

21  ' 


322  ETOWAH. 

his  noble  heart  she  was  infinitely  dearer  in  this  self-sacrific- 
ing position  of  thankless  toil  than  she  had  ever  been  before. 
He  had  hardly  reached  the   St.    Charles   hotel   when  the 
clerk  handed  him  the  following  telegram  : 

"  Colonel  Barnum,  U.  S.  A.,  St.  Charles  Hotel,  N.  0. 

"Captain  Latane  and  twelve  others  have  been  arrested  and 
imprisoned  in  Fort  Pulaski,  charged  with  the  assassination 
of  George  Washburn.  Return  and  endeavor  to  save  their 
lives.  It  is  unnecessary  to  tell  you  that  they  are  innocent,  but 
it  is  feared  that  suborned  testimony  will  be  used  against 
them.  Hugh  Leslie." 

Had  a  thunderbolt  fallen  at  his  feet.  Colonel  Barnum  could 
not  have  been  more  startled.  The  situation  admitted  of 
no  delay.  He  left  by  the  next  train,  but  before  leaving 
penned  the  following  note  to  Julia,  and  addressed  it  to  the 
care  of  the  pastor  of  the  church  which  she  attended  : 

"  Miss  Julia  Dearing — I  came  to  New  Orleans  to  see 
you.  Just  as  I  had  learned  which  church  you  attended, 
and  before  I  could  learn  your  address,  I  received  a  telegram, 
which  forces  me  to  return  at  once  to  Etowah.  I  need  not 
tell  you  what  a  grievous  disappointment  this  is  to  me,  or 
allude  to  the  object  of  my  mission  here. 

"I  hope  to  return  again  soon,  and  trust  that  my  next  efibrt 
may  meet  with  better  success. 

''Kespectfully  your  friend, 

"Charles  Barnum." 

"  I  will  not  grieve  her  by  further  information,"  said  he  to 
himself. 

r 

"  Miss  Julia,"  said  the  amiable  young  simpleton,  Emile 
LaGrange,  one  evening,  after  he  had  been  rejected  for,  per- 
haps, the  twentieth  time,  "you  almost  make  me  lose  faith  in 


ETOWAH.  323 


constancy ;  until  I  knew  you  I  thought  such  devotion  as 
mine  would  win  the  love  of  any  woman." 

"  Indeed !  what  gave  you  such  a  poor  opinion  of  women, 
or  such  a  high  opinion  of  the  constancy  of  man's  affections  ? 
I  think  '  unstable  as  water '  is  the  best  description  of  man- 
kind generally."  ' 

•'And  you  might  add,  while  you  are  quoting  Scripture," 
said  he  petulantly,  "  'that  all  is  vanity'  is  the  best  descrip- 
tion of  women." 

"  That's  the  nicest  speech  I  ever  heard  you  utter;  now,  if 
I  were  not  a  poor  governess,  and  you  were  not  silly  enough 
to  imagine  yourself  in  love  with  me,  I  would  tell  you  that 
the  greatest  charm  of  a  woman  in  the  eyes  of  men  is  that 
same  thing  yclept  vanity.  It  is  the  duty  of  every  woman 
to  be  as  pretty  as  she  can  be." 

"  Well,  you  perform  your  duty  in  that  respect  gloriously 
well  "  said  the  infatuated  vouth. 

"  Yes,  I  know  I  am  pretty,  just  as  I  know  you  are  not 
handsome." 

"  You  are  very  unkind ;  why  do  you  dislike  me  so  ?  "  he 
asked.  "How  can  a  man  be  handsome?  I  trv  mv  best  to 
be." 

"  I  do  not  dislike  vou.  If  vou  wish  a  candid  answer,  I 
will  say  that  I  think  the  first  and  most  indispensable 
requisite  to  a  handsome  man  is  manliness.  A  manly  look 
can  only  proceed  from  a  manly  heart.  Courage  and  inde- 
pendent spirit  can't  be  coined  to  order.  Mirabeau  is  said  to 
have  been  an  extremely  homely  man,  but  when  his  counte- 
nance was  lighted  up  with  the  fire  of  courage  and  genius, 
his  very  manliness  made  him  singularly  handsome." 

''  It  takes  a  good  physique  to  make  a  man  look  handsome," 


324  ETOWAH. 

said  LaGrange,   twirling   his   feeble   moustache,  "and  you 
can't  make  a  good  physique  to  order." 

"On  the  contrary,"  she   replied,  "the  greatest  men  of  his- 
tory were  small  men  physically.     The  Emperor  Napoleon 
was  called  the  '  Little  Corporal' because  of  his  small  stature, 
but  no  man  has  occupied   as  large  a  niche  in  the  temple  of 
fame  as  he.     But  to  be  great  one  must  first  be  manly." 

"  Do  you  think  a  man  who  has  never  worried  with  those 
abstruse  or  abstract  questions,  can  make  up  his  mind  to  be 
manly?"  asked  LaGrange. 

"  If  he  has  courage,  yes;  without  courage,  no.  Neither  a 
man  nor  a  woman  can  know  his  or  her  resources  until  the 
heavy  hand  of  poverty  has  placed  them  in  situations  where 
they  must  conquer  or  be  conquered." 

"  That  remark,  and  your  style  generally,  persuade  me  of 
what  I  have  suspected  before,  that  you  have  not  always  been 
poor.  For  my  part,  I  can't  understand  how  you  preler  pov- 
erty and  the  hard  lot  of  a  governess  to  ample  wealth  and  a 
life  of  ea«e  and  comfort  such  :is  I  am  prepared  and  more  than 
willing  to  give  you  if  you  will  marry  me." 

"  Mr.  LaGrange,  you  will  persuade  me  of  what  /  have 
suspected  before,  that  you  are  very  far  from  being  manly  if 
v'ou  ever  repf^at  such  language  to  me  again.  My  life,  past 
and  future,  is  my  own  secret,  and  it  is  ungenerous,  if  not 
unmanly,  to  offer  such  inducements  to  me  in  such  language. 
If  you  would  not  cut  short  our  acquaintance  you  will  not 
allude  to  your  imaginary  fancy  for  me  in  such  penurious 
terms  again." 

"Forgive  me,  Miss  Julia;  say  anything  but  that.  You 
can  make  me  do  what  you  phase  :  either  to  assume  courage, 
and  what  you  call  *  manliness,'  or  you  can  consign  me  to  the 


ETOWAH.  32^ 

gutter.  I  intend  to  win  your  love  or  end  my  own  by  the 
old  plan." 

"  Hush,  Mr.  LaGrange ;  it  is  folly,  it  is  madness,  for  you 
to  express  yourself  so  rashly !  If  you  value  my  friendship  — 
and  you  have  that,  for  you  are  always  kind  and  usually  re- 
spectful to  me— you  will  quit  the  unmanly  habit  of  getting 
intoxicated.  If  you  are  courageous  enough  to  defy  public 
opinion,  you  ought  to  be  manly  enough  to  spare  your  mother 
misery  when  she  sees  you  in  that  silly,  maudlin  state.  I 
never  could  understand  how  men  could  be  such  cowards  as 
to  allow  disappointment  or  failure  to  persuade  them  to  de- 
scend to  the  level  of  the  brute  creation." 

"  Oh,  mother  isn't  miserable  about  it !  If  you  only  would 
get  miserable  about  me  I'd  quit  it.  I'd  be  as  manly  as  any- 
body, and  work  or  fight,  or  quit  playing  cards  and  billiards, 
or  staying  out  late  at  night,  or  do  anything.  But  it's  no 
use;  you  don't  care  a  chew  of  tobacco  whether  I  go  to  the 
devil  or  not,  and  I  don't,  either — so  good-night !"  And  the 
y^outh  went  out  in  the  street,  banging  the  front  door  as  he 
left  the  bouse. 

It  was  already  eleven  o'clock,  and  Emile  LaGrange  had 
taken  more  than  one  drink  of  whisky  already.  Julia,  with 
a  look  of  pity  and  sympathy,  watched  him  as  he  left  the 
house,  and  thought  for  a  long  time  over  the  checkered  expe- 
rienbes  of  the  past  few  months  of  her  life.  She  began  to  realize 
that  beauty  was  one  of  the  most  fatal  obstacles  to  happiness, 
and  yet  she  would  not  be  woman  did  she  not  prize  it  above 
all  the  other  gifts  with  which  nature  had  lavishly  endowed 
her. 

"  There  is  no  unalloyed  happiness  in  this  life,"  she  thought. 
''Women  daily  sell  themselves  to  such  lucky  nincompoops 
as  Emile  LaGrange,  and  think  more  of  the  elegantly  attired 


326  ETOWAH. 

society  slave  than  of  a  heroine  who  works  to  ward  off  that 
worst  of  fates — dependent  poverty.  Doubtless  Mrs.  LaGrange 
married  a  man  like  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts,  a  Croesus  in 
wealth,  but  a  pauper  in  soul — a  man  of  whom  it  is  said,  '  He 
lends  like  a  prince  and  collects  like  a  Shylock.'  Rather 
would  I  live  in  poverty  and  die  in  obscurity  than  wear  the 
livery  of  such  pinchbeck  aristocracy.  No;  I  will  never 
marry." 

The  next  day  about  noon  the  maid  came  into  the  library, 
where  Julia  was  in  the  habit  of  teaching  her  little  pupils, 
and  informed  her  that  Mrs.  LaGrange  desired  to  see  her  pri- 
vately and  at  once. 

"  You  can  have  holiday  the  rest  of  the  day,  children,  but 
don't  go  on  the  street ;  the  street  is  not  the  proper  place  for 
little  girls  to  play.  I  will  take  you  out  to  the  park  this  af- 
ternoon.'' 

"Come,"  said  Mrs.  LaGrange  as  Julia  knocked  at  her 
door.  "Pray  be  seated,  Miss  Bearing,  and  place  your  chair 
close  to  mine  ;  I  want  to  speak  to  you  confidentially."  Julia 
complied,  and  Mrs.  LaGrange  continued :  "  You  know,  my 
dear,  that  my  Emile  has  been  sadly  beside  himself  lately,  and 
you  know  also  that  I  am  an  invalid  and  can't  bear  to  see 
my  only  son,  the  pride  of  his  mother's  heart,  throwing  him- 
self away,  and  going  to  the  bad  as  fast  as  he  can."  Mrs.  La- 
Grange here  used  her  smelling  salts,  remarking  as  she  did 
so :  "  My  neuralgia  increases  every  day  this  hot  weather." 

Anything  was  preferable  to  a  lecture  on  her  bodily  infirm- 
ities, and  Julia  remarked : 

"  I  am  truly  sorry  Mr.  LaGrange  has  so  little  self-control. 
He  has  been  very  courteous  and  kind  to  me,  and  I  appreciate 
it.  But  really  it  is  a  subject  which  I  do  not  think  it  appro- 
priate for  me  to  discuss." 


ETOWAH.  327 

"  How  can  you  be  so  heartless  as  to  be  indifferent  to  the 
poor  boy's  condition,  when  you  know  you  are  the  sole  cause 
of  it?  It  is  true  I  did  all  in  my  power  to  prevent  his  in- 
fatuation. Not  that  you  would  be  perfectly  acceptable  if 
you  were  his  social  equal,  my  dear,  but  you  know  a  govern- 
ess is  not  the  social  equal  of  Emile  LaGrange." 

Mrs.  LaGrange  said  this  with  a  toss  of  the  head  meant  to 
be  overpowering. 

"  I  have  heard  all  that  I  care  to  hear  concerning  this  most 
disagreeable  subject,  Mrs.  LaGrange.  As  to  my  social  posi- 
tion you  may  think  as  you  please,  but  I  protest  against  being 
held  responsible  for  your  son's  weakness  " 

As  Julia  said  this,  she  ar^se  and  started  to  leave  the  room, 
but  Mrs.  LaGrange,  forgetting  her  numerous  maladies, 
rushed  to  the  door  and  detained  her. 

'•You  must  not,  shall  not  go  until  you  have  heard  me. 
The  doctor  says  Emile  is  threatened  with  delirium  tremens,  and 
he  has  been  raving  about  you  all  night,  swearing  that  he 
will  make  you  his  wife  or  die.  Oh,  .Julia!"  (she  had  never 
called  her  Julia  before)  "if  you  have  any  sympathy  for  a 
mother's  bleeding  heart,  you  will  save  my  son  !  I  withdraw 
all  the  objections  I  have  urged,  and  will  give  my  consent  to 
your  union  with  my  son  if  you  will  pledge  me  never  to  say 
that  you  have  been  a  governess." 

Julia  could  not  feel  other  than  sympathy  for  the  mother, 
however  distasteful  to  her  the  woman  was. 

"Mrs.  LaGrange,  you  amaze  me !  I  have  none  but  the  kind- 
est feelings  for  Mr.  LaGrange,  and  he  knows  it.  I  am  grate- 
ful to  you  for  employing  me  at  such  a  liberal  salary ;  I  am 
willing  to  leave  the  house  at  any  time  and  seek  employment 
elsewhere,  and  will  certainly  do  so  if  I  am  a  cause  of  trouble 
or  unhappiness.     Pardon  me  when  I  say  a  marriage  with 


328  ETOWAH. 

your  son  is  utterly  impossible.     I  will  never  marry  any  one 
whom  I  do  not  love  more  than  all  the  world  beside  " 

"Good  heavens!  Julia,  is  it  po=!sible  that  you  will  refuse 
Emile  LaGrange,  when  I  tell  you  that  his  income  from 
United  States  bonds  alone  is  ten  thousand  dollars  a  year?" 

"  It  is  not  only  possible,  Mrs.  LaGrange,  but  it  is  absolutely 
certain  that  I  have  refused  his  offers  repeatedly,  and  would 
not  marry  him  if  his  income  was  ten  times  as  great.  But, 
understand  me,  I  will  do  anything  that  it  is  proper  for  me 
to  do  to  befriend  your  son  whom  I  really  like  for  his  good 
qualities." 

"Miss  Dearing,  I  have  done  you  injustice.  I  thought  you 
had  been  scheming  to  win  the  affections  of  my  son.  I  am 
truly  sorry  that  you  cannot  return  his  love,  but  I  must  say 
I  respect  your  integrity  and  honest  independence.  There  is 
not  another  girl  in  New  Orleans  who  would  not  jump  at  the 
chance  of  marrying  Emile  LaGrange.  You  will  do  him  and 
his  mother  a  great  kindness  by  remaining  in  the  family,  and 
I  assure  you  I  will  not  be  apt  to  misunderstand  you  again." 

"Very  well,  Mrs.  LaGrange,  I  am  glad  we  understand  one 
another.  For  the  present  I  will  remain  in  m}-  capacity  of 
governess." 

It  was  evident  that  Mrs.  LaGrange  had  determined  upon 
a  new  plan  to  accomplish  her  purpose,  for  as  Julia  held  aloof 
from  the  proposition,  Mrs.  LaGrange  became  anxious  to  con- 
summate it.  "  Evidently  this  proud  beauty  must  be  other 
than  she  seems,  and  must  have  been  once,  if  she  is  not  now, 
an  heiress  herself."  Such  were  the  thoughts  of  the  lady  as 
she  determined  to  find  out  Julia's  historv  and,  if  favora- 
ble,  to  bring  about  a  marriage  with  her  son  and  this  lovely 
girl,  who  was  ever  patient  and  ever  dignified.  Julia  sus- 
pected nothing  of  this,  and  acceded   to  her  wishes  from  the 


ETOWAH. 


329 


kindly  impulses  of  her  generous  nature.     Few  men  were  less 
congenial  to  her  than  this  amiable  coxcomb,  Emile  LaGrange. 

"When  did  you  hear  last  from  Etowah?"  asked  Mrs.  La- 
Grange  about  a  week  after  the  above  conversation. 

"  I  have  not  heard  from  Etowah  since  my  arrival  in  New 
Orleans.     AVhy  should  any  one  in  that  city  write  to  me  ?" 

••  I  thought  you  lived  there,  my  dear;  that  is  why  I  asked 
the  question." 

''I  have  lived  in  many  places;  the  world  is  my  home,"  said 
Julia. 

''And  how  do  you  like  such  a  Bohemian  life?" 

'•I  do  not  know  what  you  mean  by  'Bohemian.'  I  have 
read  Miss  Fisher's  novel,  'A  Daughter  of  Bohemia,'  but  I  did 
not  see  why  such  a  title  should  be  given  to  the  book.  The 
heroine  was  neither  a  Gipsy  nor  a  native  of  Bohemia,  and  I  am 
sure  I  am  as  far  from  being  either  as  Norah  Desmond  was." 

'•Well,  we  will  substitute  the  word  'cosmopolite,'  if  you 
prefer  it." 

"That  is  as  objectionable  as  the  other,  for  I  am  intensely 
Southern  in  my  nature,  thoughts,  and  impulses." 

"It  is  certainly  plain  enough  that  you  are  not  a  'Yankee 
school-marm,'   said  Mrs.  LaGrange. 

•T  wish  I  was!"  impetuously  replied  Julia,  "for  then  no 
one  would  think  it  more  honorable  for  a  woman  to  depend 
on  the  charity  of  friends  than  to  earn  one's  own  living.  We 
have  many  false  notions,  and  that  is  the  chiefest  of  them." 

"  But  marriage,  my  dear,  is  the  true  destiny  of  woman,  and 
a  woman  with  your  natural  advantage,  and,  permit  me  to 
add,  the  further  advantage  of  having  been  the  idol  of  your 
distinguished  father,  ought  to  be  the  leader  of  Xew  Orleans 
society.     I  know  of  no  one  who  could  come  nearer  realizing 


830  ETOWAH. 

the  ideal  of  the  polished  Frenchman — 'Pleased  with    all  the 
world,  whom  all  the  world  can  please.' " 

Julia's  eyes  flashed  as  she  said  indignantly:  "What  right 
had  you  to  pry  into  my  priyate  history?  I  see  that  you  haye 
written  to  my  former  home  to  find  out  what  my  past  life 
was,  and,  Mrs.  LaGrange,  I  can  only  say  that  such  unpar- 
donable curiosity  must  end  our  intercourse.  My  reasons  for 
leaying  that  home  and  seeking  to  make  my  own  support  are 
my  own."  To  Julia's  surprise  Mrs.  LaGrange  did  not  get 
angry,  but  smiling  blandly  said  to  her :  ''Julia,  I  apologized 
to  you  when  I  had  been  guilty  of  unintentional  injustice.  It 
is  your  time  now.  Our  minister,  Rey.  Mr.  F.,  gaye  me  all 
the  information  I  haye.  He  left  the  parlor  a  few  moments 
before  you  came  in  and  handed  me  this  note,  which  he  said 
your  friend,  Colonel  Barnum,  requested  him  to  giye  yovi." 

Julia  crimsoned  as  she  took  the  letter  and  read  it.  Then 
handing  it  to  Mrs.  LaGrange  she  said  in  her  natural  manner, 
which  she  had  repressed  up  to  this  time :  "Well,  I  suppose, 
since  Mr.  F.  has  told  you  all  about  me,  it's  no  use  for  me  to 
play  goyerness  in  this  house  any  longer.  Read  the  note  if 
you  wish.  Now,  Mrs.  LaGrange,  I  must  express  my  regret 
for  what  you  haye  learned  and  for  my  own  language  to 
you." 

"  Why,  my  dear,  do  you  regret  my  discoyery  ?  It  has  made 
me  yery  happy.  I  haye  not  been  unmindful  of  the  good 
influence  you  haye  exerted  oyer  Emile.  I  understand  now 
how  your  pride  should  haye  caused  you  to  haye  rejected  him 
so  long  as  I  supposed  you  were  simply  a  poor  girl  who  had 
been  educated  to  be  a  goyerness.  But  surely,  now  that  I 
know  you  are  his  social  equal  and,  but  for  the  war,  would 
be  as  wealthy  as  Emile  himself,  there  can  be  no  good  reason 
why,  as  his  wife,  you  should  not  be  the  enyy  of  eyery  belle 


ETOWAH. 


331 


in  the  Crescent  City.  Oh!  Julia,  I  shall  be  so  proud  of  your 
queenly  beauty,  if  you  will  only  consent  to  be  to  New  Or- 
leans what  the  Empress  Eugenie  is  to  France ;  you  can  if  you 

will  only '' 

"My  dear  Mrs.  LaGrange,"  interrupted  Julia,  "I  will  never 
marry  your  son.  Neither  do  I  wish  to  be  what  you  call  'a 
leader  of  society ;'  I  do  not  approve  of  married  belles.  I 
think  a  woman's  name  should  find  its  way  in  the  public 
prints  but  twice  during  life— first  at  her  marriage,  and  second 
when  she  dies.  I  shrink  from  notoriety,  as  I  shrink  from 
anything  penurious.  I  must  repeat,  I  am  ready— nay  anx- 
ious, since  mv  retreat  has  been  discovered — to  leave  New  Or- 
leans  and  seek  to  make  my  support  elsewhere.  A  home  as 
luxurious  as  this  is  mine  for  life,  if  I  will  accept  it  from  my 
uncle,  but  I  will  not  eat  idle  bread,  nor  depend  upon  any 
one  for  my  living." 

-'"Well,  Miss  Dearing,"  said  Mrs.  LaGrange  in  a  frigid  tone, 
••henceforth  we  will  resume  our  positions  of  employer  and 
employee  until  the  contract  is  finished.  If  you  are  so  heart- 
less as  to  send  my  son  to  perdition,  I  must  be  hard,  too.  I 
have  ofiered  vou  a  mother's  love  and  you  spurn  it." 

"As  you  please,  Mrs.  LaGrange ;  I  prefer  to  leave  your 
service  at  once  and  seek  elsewhere  for  my  subsistence,  but 
my  word  shall  be  my  bond." 

No  entreaties  on  Emile's  part  could  induce  Julia  to  grant 
him  an  interview.  She  ceased  to  read  in  the  parlor  or  li- 
brary in  the  evening,  and  sought  the  solitude  of  her  own 
room  in  preference.  The  little  girls  were  her  constant  com- 
panions and  were  devotedly  attached  to  her.  Their  rapid 
progress  in  their  studies  and  improvment  in  deportment 
caused  general  comment. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE    KU-KLUX  KLAN. 


The  scene  is  the  court-house  square  in  Etowah.  The 
audience  is  composed  of  ignorant  plantation  negroes.  The 
speaker  is  a  large  man  of  herculean  proportions,  whose 
mind  seemed  an  infernal  machine  endowed  with  life.  Of 
obscure  parentage,  he  seemed  full  of  venomous  hatred  against 
those  who  had  been  more  favored  by  birth  and  fortune  than 
himself.  Ambitious  for  political  control  in  a  time  of  anar- 
chy, he  gloated  over  the  opportunities  afforded  by  the  exist- 
ence of  martial  law  to  humiliate  the  gentry  of  the  coun- 
try who  had  never  treated  him  as  a  social  equal.  It  was  to 
this  man,  then  a  merciless  overseer  but  a  plotter  and  agita- 
tor, to  whom  old  Zeke  had  referred  in  his  conversation  with 
Barnum,  related  in  a  previous  chapter.  From  the  position 
of  ste-ward  in  a  little  hotel  in  Etowah,  he  had  risen  to  be  an 
overseer  w^ho  was  noted  for  his  cruelty  to  the  slaves  placed 
under  his  control.  From  that  position  he  was  promoted  to 
his  present  prominence  by  the  accidents  of  war.  He  was 
now  a  candidate  for  the  United  States  Senate,  and,  though 
an  extremely  ignorant  man,  it  seemed  probable  that  the 
Legislature,  composed  chiefly  of  ignorant  negro  members, 
would  elect  him  to  that  exalted  office.  But  jealousy  had 
crept  into  the  ranks  of  the  white  Radicals,  and  he  was  now 
thrust  out,  even  from  their  society.  So  obnoxious  had  he 
made  himself  that  the  hotels  refused  to  receive  him  as  a 
guest. 


I 


ETOWAH.  33'> 

Yells  greeted  him  as  he  ascended  the  platform,  and  he 
proceeded  to  speak  as  follows : 

"You   have    not   received   any  more   wages    than   have 
the   mules    on    the    plantations.     I    see    before    me    men 
whom    I   have  known  for  thirty-two  year^.     Unless  your 
former     masters     will     pay    wages,    withheld    for    thirty- 
two   years,  to    each   man   and    his   wife,  who   has   worked 
for  that  period  of  time,  what  faith   can  you   place  in  their 
promises  to  pay  you  now  and  hereafter  ?    Go  to  the  North 
and  you  will  get  twenty-five  dollars  a  month,  and  your  wife 
will  receive  two  dollars  a  week,  and  you  will  be  paid  every 
Saturday  night.     In   thirty-two  years  this  will  amount  to 
eleven  thousand  and  six  hundred  and  eighty  dollars,  and 
that  much  is  due  to  you,  and  when  it  is  paid — paid  to  every 
man  and  his  wife,  who  has  worked  for  thirty-two  years — it 
will  buy  the  plantations  in   this  State.     The  government 
intends  to  give  you  these  lands  if  you  will  join  the  loyal 
league  and  vote  right.     Freedmen,  demand  these  lands,  and 
avenge  the  oppressions  to  which   you  have  been  subjected 
all  your  lives." 

Then  followed  a  harangue  which  was  replete  with  sug- 
gestions of  the  vilest  and  most  incendiary  nature.  To  add 
to  the  effect,  liquor  was  freely  given  to  the  excited  negroes, 
and  the  court-house  square  seemed  changed  into  Pande- 
monium— a  veritable  council-ground  of  evil  spirits. 

There  was  nothing  in  this  speech  to  indicate  that  neither 
at  the  North  nor  in  any  country  on  earth  the  money  earned 
as  wages  paid  per  month  would  leave  the  average  laborer 
any  surplus  after  the  expense  of  supporting  the  large  fami- 
lies of  the  slaves  at  the  South  had  been  met.  Suppose  the 
same  speech  were  made  to  the  same  audience  twenty  years 
after  they  had  been  emancipated,  would  it  find  them  better 


334  ETOWAH. 

supplied  with  food  and  clothing  than  they  and  their  fami- 
lies had  enjoyed  as  slaves?  Would  it  leave  them  any  sur- 
plus after  these  had  been  paid  for?  But  his  object  was  to 
foment  strife,  and  he  succeeded  beyond  his  anticipations. 

Gone  now  was  that  beautiful  trust  and  confidence  be- 
tween master  and  servant,  and  in  its  place  were  suspicion 
and  dawning  hate.  The  wind  was  sowing  the  whirlwind ; 
and  malice  gleamed  in  eyes  that  had  not  shown  it  before, 
and  the  seeds  of  anarchy  were  sown.  He  and  his  associates 
assured  these  ignorant  freedmen  that  the  land  which  be- 
longed to  their  former  masters  would  be  given  to  them  by 
the  United  States  Government,  just  as  it  had  given  them 
freedom.  The  torch  was  their  weapon  of  destruction  and 
arson  their  political  creed.  He  instilled  into  their  hearts 
the  same  fell  spirit  which  induced  the  maddened,  misguided 
mob  of  the  Paris  Commune  to  raze  to  the  ground  and  burn 
the  historic  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  with  its  wealth  of  art 
which  it  had  taken  centuries  to  collect  and  preserve. 

The  speaker  who  next  ascended  the  stand  was  introduced 
by  Washburn  as  "the  Reverend  Mr.  Stunner,  of  Hinds 
county,  a  hero  in  the  cause  of  emancipation,  who  was,  all 
during  the  war,  secretly  cooperating  with  me  at  the  immi- 
nent risk  of  his  life."  Mr.  Stunner  had  appeared  to  take 
the  place  of  Mr.  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts,  who  was  not 
present,  or,  if  he  was,  did  not  make  his  presence  known. 
He  could  hardly  have  recognized  his  whil'jm  "silent  part- 
ner" if  he  had  been  present. 

The  "Reverend  Mr.  Stunner"  wore  an  immaculate  white 
cravat,  and  the  expression  on  his  face  was  that  of  extreme 
humility  and  piety.  His  appearance  was  in  all  respects  the 
reverse  of  that  of  George  Washburn,  and  he  seemed  almost 
afraid  of  himself  as  he  faced  the  half-drunken  negroes.     But 


ETOWAH.  335 

when  he  began  to  tell  them  that  a  bill  had  just  been  intro- 
duced in  Congress  at  his  suggestion  only,  and  had  been 
passed  by  the  House  of  Representatives  solely  through  his  in- 
fluence, owing  to  his  well-known  services  in  behalf  of  the 
poor  negro  slaves  for  whom  he  had  risked  his  life,  they  be- 
gan to  give  attention  to  his  utterances.  When  he  exclaimed 
that  he  would  now  explain  to  them  the  "provisions  of  the 
bill,"  he  was  interrupted  by  a  leading  negro  exhorter,  who 
elicited  thunderous  applause  when  he  said  : 

"Dat's  de  kind  of  talk ;  tell  us  about  de  provisions  de  gov- 
ernment is  agwine  to  give  us.'' 

Our  friend  Stunner  was  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  imme- 
diately addressed  himself  to  the  stomachs,  rather  than  the 
heads  of  the  audience,  who  had  no  conception  of  any  other 
meaning  of  the  word  "provisions. "  Finally,  after  he  had 
got  them  thoroughly  interested  by  making  them  the  wildest 
promises,  he  began  to  describe  the  Freedmen's  Bureau  bill, 
which  had  just  passed  the  United  States  Senate  by  a  vote 
of  thirty-seven  against  ten.  "  This  bill,"  he  exclaimed  loud- 
ly, "This  bill,  in  authorizing  the  distribution  by  the  Freed- 
men's Bureau,  of  clothing  and  provisions,  invites  the  Presi- 
dent to  confiscate  and  place  at  the  disposal  of  the  bureau 
three  millions  of  acres  of  land  to  be  leased  or  sold,  or  given 
to  the  freedmen,  in  lots  of  forty  acres.  It  confirms  for  three 
years  the  concessions  and  grants  made  by  the  Federal  gen- 
eral to  negroes  of  the  valuable  plantations  confiscated  by  him 
on  the  Sea  Islands,  ofi  the  coast  of  the  Carolinas.  It 
authorizes  the  bureau  to  buy  lands  for  the  freedmen,  and 
to  establish  schools  and  asylums  for  them,  and  announces 
that  Congress  Avill  vote  all  the  money  needed." 

"And  give  us  provisions  ?"  shouted  the  negro  speaker,  in 


336  ETOWAH. 

the  audience  (who   had  doubtless  been  drilled   for  the  occa- 
sion by  George  Washburn  and  the  Rev.  Stunner). 

"  Yes,  and  give  you  all  that  you  can  eat  and  wear,"  replied 
the  generous  Stunner. 

"  Golly !  dat's  de  talk  for  us,  "  replied  several ;  and  now 
the  negroes  crowded  around  the  stand  to  hear  every  word 
''  the  Rev.  Mr.  Stunner"  uttered. 

"  It  stipulates,"  he  continued,  "that  when  the  rights  of 
persons  of  color  as  to  contracts  or  security  of  person  or  prop- 
erty are  threatened,  the  President  shall  require  the  interven- 
tion of  the  military  in  their  favor. 

"  It  prescribes  the  penalties,  amounting  to  one  thousand 
dollars  and  one  year  in  prison,  against  any  one  who 
shall  attempt  to  re-establish  slavery  or  to  make  distinc- 
tions," (here  Stunner  spoke  very  slowly,  pausing  at  each 
word,  that  he  might  the  better  emphasize  the  statement), 
'or  to  make  distinctions,"  he  repeated  slowly,  "on  account  of 
color.  You  must  understand,  my  brethren,  that  this  law 
means  that  you  are  as  good  as  white  folks,  and  can  ride,  walk, 
eat,  drink,  talk,  go  to  theatres  and  churches,  just  as  they  do, 
on  a  footing  of  perfect  equality  and" —  "Kin  we  marry  de 
white  gals  ?  "  asked  an  excited  colored  brother,  interrupting 
the  speaker.  "Certainly,"  answered  Stunner,  "and  if  they 
won't  have  you,  why,  you  can  just  take  ^em.  The  longest  pole 
will  get  the  persimmon." 

An  indescribable  uproar  succeeded  this  remark,  during 
which  John  Hefflin  Avas  seen  shaking  hands  with  various 
parties  in  the  audience  after  the  manner  of  Methodists  at  a 
camp-meeting,  as  if  to  say:  "You  are  indebted  ^o  m^  for 
all  this ;  you  are  indebted  to  me  for  that  bill,  and  not  to  my 
friend,  Stunner,  who  was  only  my  assistant." 

Amid  the  confusion,  Stunner  stood  still,  his  hands  crossed 


ETOWAH.  337 

piously  in  front  of  him,  his  face  having  a  look  of  meek 
beneficence,  as  he  surveyed  the  masses  before  him  for  whom 
he  had  done  so  much.  When  comparative  quiet  was  restored, 
he  again  addressed  them,  stating  that  the  most  important 
announcement  was  yet  to  come,  viz. :  "  The  bill  constitutes 
the  agents  of  the  Freedmen's  Bureau  judges  of  all  the  con- 
tests where  the  rights  of  the  enfranchised  negroes  are  inter- 
ested, and  that  the  head-officer  in  this  department  is  your  life- 
long champion,  Mr.  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts." 

Amid  laughter  and  tears,  the  negroes  thronged  around  the 
stand  as  if  the  millennium  had  come,  and  the  negro  "strik- 
er" again  cried  out:  "Do  you  mean  that  the  judge,  and  the 
sheriff,  and  the  jury,  and  the  marshal,  and  the  policeman,  are 
all  to  be  removed  or  made  subject  to  the  orders  of  Mr.  Wel- 
lington Potts?" 

"Yes,  my  good  brother,  that  is  the  law.  At  last,  at  last! 
the  bottom  rail  is  on  top  !" 

As  they  heard  Stunner  utter  this  familiar  illustration,  the 
crowd  whooped,  and  yells  filled  the  air  as  the  drunken  ne- 
groes wandered  about  the  streets,  and  it  was  difficult  for  Stun- 
ner to  get  them  to  listen  to  the  concluding  sentences,  in  which 
he  announced  that  the  bill  was  passed  in  the  House  of  Repre- 
entatives  after  being  amended  so  as  to  provide  that,  should  the 
freedmen  to  Avhom  these  confiscated  lands  had  been  given, 
or  should  be  given,  leased,  or  sold,  be  subsequently  dispos- 
sessed by  reason  of  amnesty,  or  for  political  reasons  they 
should  be  indemnified  for  such  losses.  The  negro  mob  had 
heard  enough. 

This  was  "freedom"  indeed !  for  the  government  was  going 
to  give  them  "provisions"   all   their  lives,    and,  therefore,  it 

22 


338  ETOWAH. 

was  useless  to  work  any  more.     That  is  the  way  they  con- 
strued his  speech. 

The  planters,  already  fearfully  impoverished,  were  now 
confronted  by  this  new  danger,  and,  that  the  reader  may 
appreciate  the  situation,  a  brief  resume  as  to  slavery  is 
admissible. 

Slavery,  as  it  had  existed  in  the  Southern  States,  resem- 
bled more  the  condition  of  the  serfs  of  Russia  than  the  cruel 
slavery  of  the  Romans.  The  Russian  serf  was  bound  to  the  soil 
and  was  the  property  of  the  Seigneur.  They  were  compelled  to 
cultivate  a  certain  ground  and  could  not  leave  it  without 
permission.  This  was  also  the  status  of  the  slaves  in  the 
South.  In  Greece  and  Rome  the  number  of  the  slaves 
frequently  exceeded  the  free  population.  The  law  forbade 
slaves  from  pleading  or  giving  testimony  in  the  courts ;  so  it 
did  in  the  South.  But  there  was  nothing  in  the  laws  which 
prevailed  in  the  Southern  States  that  permitted  the  barbari- 
ties practiced  by  the  Lacedemonians  upon  their  Helots. 
Nor  was  there  anything  which  approached  the  Roman  laws 
which  required  slaves  to  have  their  heads  shaved,  their  ears 
pierced,  and  forced  them  to  wear  a  costume  indicating  their 
condition.  The  Romans  had  the  right  of  inflicting  death 
upon  their  slaves  with  impunity.  In  the  Southern  States 
a  master  who  murdered  his  slave  was  executed  as  a  mur- 
derer and  execrated  as  a  human  monster.  Under  the  great 
Augustus,  the  senatus  consultum  ordained,  if  a  citizen  wa& 
killed  in  his  own  house,  all  his  slaves  could  be  put  to- 
torture.     This  was  the  law  in  ancient  Rome. 

In  some  cases  slaves  were  punished  by  being  delivered  in 
the  arena  to  be  devoured  by  wild  beasts.  Hence  the  odium 
which  attaches  to  "chains  and  slavery."'  In  the  South  no 
barbarous  practices  could  be   indulged   in  without  punish- 


ETOWAH.  339 

ment,  and  the  criminal  law  applied  to  the  master  as  well  as 
the  slave.  As  in  Rome,  however,  they  could  not  marry- 
without  their  master's  permission. 

The  freedmen  of  Rome  were  not  made  citizens  except  un- 
der certain  circumstances  defined  by  law.     They  were  called 
liherti  with  reference  to  their  masters,  and  lihertini  with   ref- 
erence to  their  h^ing  freed  men,   their   new  condition.     But 
even  the  freedmen  of  the  first  class  were  under  certain  obli- 
gations to  their  masters,  and  were  not  genuine  citizens.  They 
wore  a  cap  as  a  sign  of  recent  freedom,  but  took  the  names  of 
their  previous  masters,  and  so  did  the  freedmen  of  the  South 
get  their  names.     The  sons  of  freedmen  became  citizens.  As 
with  Russian  serfs,  emancipation  meant  with  the  Romans  a 
gradual  evolution,  and  the  owners  were  compensated  for  the 
loss  of  their  slaves,  both  under  the  Junian  law  in  Rome,  and 
recentlv  bv  the  decree  of  the  Czar  Alexander,  in  Russia.     Like 
the  Roman  colonists  the  "  Junian  Latins,"  as  the  freedmen 
were  called,  were  neither  slaves  nor  citizens.     In  America  the 
emancipation  of  the  slaves  of  the  South  without  any  law  by 
which  slave-owners,  even  in  the  loyal  border  States,  could  be 
compensated,  was  not  only   a  war   measure,  but   it   secured 
79,638  colored  enlisted  soldiers  in  the  volunteer  services  and 
99,337  colored  soldiers  enlisted  bv   the  United   States    Gov- 
ernment,  while  twice  that  number  were  employed  on   forti- 
fications and  doing  other  military  work.     Now,  a  war  of  races 
was  threatened  and  a  reign  of  terror  prevailed. 

A  hen  in  gathering  her  chickens  together  and  sheltering 
them  with  her  wings,  when  danger  menaces  them,  cries  to 
them  :  "Ku-Klux !  Ku-Klux  !"  From  so  simple  a  fact  orig- 
inated the  name  of  the  dreaded  secret  society  called  the  Ku- 
Klux  Klan. 


340  ETOWAH. 

The  statutes  of  the  French  carbonari  were  most  stringent. 
The  faintest  whisper  of  the  secrets  of  the  society  to  outsiders 
constituted  treason,  and  was  punishable  with  death.  No 
written  communications  were  permitted.  In  1819,  there 
were  about  20,000  carbonari  in  Paris.  In  1821,  the  govern- 
ment was  officially  informed  that  the  society  existed  in  twen- 
ty-five out  of  the  eighty-six  departments  in  France. 

The  carbonari  in  Italy  and  France  were  republicans.  Men 
like  Voyer  d'Argenson,  Lafayette,  Laffite,  Dupont  del'Eure, 
Barthe,  Teste,  and  other  republicans  of  mark,  joined  the 
movement,  and  adopted  the  ritual  of  the  Abruzzi  carbonari. 
The  Congres  National  of  the  Carbonari,  which  had  its  head- 
quarters at  Paris,  seemed  for  a  time  omnipotent.  All  the 
insurrectionary  movements  from  1819  to  1822  were  attrib- 
uted to  them. 

After  the  Jul}^  revolution  of  1830,  the  carbonari  gave  in 
their  allegiance  to  Louis  Philippe.  The  conservative  carbo- 
nari do  not  now  exist ;  but  the  radical  faction  founded  the 
new  charbonerie  democratique.  This  carbonari  is  called  La 
Commune.  The  old  ^ '  Commune, ^^  which  acted  with  the  Ja- 
cobins and  reeked  with  the  deeds  of  Robespierre  and  Dan- 
ton,  is  dead. 

The  new  Commune  are  "Red  Republicans"  and  Socialists: 
they  are  members  of  the  Societe  Internationale,  the  members 
of  which  are  called  Nihilists  in  Russia. 

The  same  discontent  ,  the  same  violent  agitation  by  revo- 
lutionary proletarians,  characterized  the  secret  society  of  Ire- 
land. 

The  colonel  of  the  69th  New  York  regiment,  and  the  gen- 
eral commanding  the  "Irish  Brigade"  in  the  Union  army, 
were  Fenians.  There  were  35,000  Fenians  regularly  enrolled 
in  Ireland  in  1858.     Catholics  in  Ireland  were  prohibited  by 


ETOWAH.  341 

law  from  possessing  fire-arms.  "Circles"  were  established  in 
all  the  large  American  cities,  and  thousands  of  soldiers  in 
both  the  Union  and  the  Confederate  armies  were  Fenians. 
The  Fenian  society  had  its  ramifications  all  over  Great  Brit- 
ain and  Ireland.  A  member  of  the  Canadian  ministry  was 
killed  on  the  steps  of  his  own  door ;  his  opposition  to  Feni- 
anism  was  alleged  as  the  motive  for  the  deed.  The  Duke  of 
Edinburgh  was  dangerously  wounded  in  Port  Jackson,  Aus- 
tralia.. 

Carbonari  in  Italy,  the  Commune  in  France,  Fenianism 
in  Ireland,  Socialism  in  Germany,  Nihilism  in  Russia,  Ku- 
Kluxism  in  the  Southern  States.  Well  might  the  question 
be  asked  in  the  United  States  Senate,  "Can  you  place  in 
penitentiary  walls  eight  millions  of  people  ?" 

Civil  law^  had  been  annihilated,  and  anarchy  reigned  su- 
preme. Three  States  now  constituted  the  "Third  Military 
District."  Martial  law  was  declared,  "Magna  Charta"  for- 
gotten, the  "habeas  corpus"  Act  a  nullity. 

An  ignorant  mass  of  semi-civilized  beings,  recently  eman- 
cipated, were  being  organized  in  every  county  in  the  South 
into  secret  societies  called  "Loyal  Leagues."  They  were 
taught  that  their  former  masters  were  their  oppressors  and 
enemies.  The  organizers  of  these  "circles,"  of  these  "huts," 
of  these  "venditas,"  of  these  "ventes"  in  the  Southern  States 
w^ere  adventurers  of  the  meanest  sort ;  men  without  princi- 
ple and  without  patriotism ;  men  who  would  have  joined 
the  anarchists  in  Russia,  Ireland,  Italy  or  France ;  men  who 
were  not  recognized  as  good  citizens  or  respectable  members 
of  society  in  any  part  of  the  United  States.  The  majority 
of  them  were  penniless  adventurers  who  had  not  fought  in 
either  army.     They  were  called  "Scallawags." 


342  ETOWAH. 

When  King  Louis  XVIII.  succeeded  the  exiled  Emperor 
Napoleon  in  1817,  the  people  of  France  were  divided  into 
two  parties — conquered  Imperialists  and  triumphant  Loyal- 
ists; but  they  were  Frenchmen,  all  of  the  same  race,  impul- 
ses, characteristics  and  sentiments.  Deserters  and  traitors 
flaunted  the  evidence  of  their  paid-for  treachery  before  the 
disgusted  eyes  of  their  compatriots,  who  had  vainl}'-  followed 
the  fortunes  of  their  dethroned  emperor.  Riches  followed 
treachery. 

Human  nature  is  the  same  the  world  over,  and  in  all 
times,  among  all  peoples,  success  is  worshipped  by  the  fickle 
populace  eager  to  cry,  "The  King  is  dead;  long  live  the 
King!" 

So  it  was  in  the  South,  and  the  few  Avhite  citizens  who 
became  suppliant  "  boot-licks "  to  the  conquerors  were 
enriched  with  unearned  .wealth  and  rewarded  for  their  treach- 
ery. They  were  insolent  in  their  pretensions,  arrogant  in  their 
professions,  mendacious  in  their  reports,  and  they  alone 
were  believed  and  trusted  by  the  government.  Among 
them  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  was  a  shining  light.  But 
they  were  a  mere  handful,  while  the  illiterate,  semi-cvilized 
negroes  just  emerging  from  slavery  were  an  easy  prey  to  the 
designing  adventurers  who  assumed  all  political  power. 
Three  typical  leaders  met.  They  counselled  together.  Said 
one:  "Our  cause  is  lost,  and  I  shall  leave  the  countrv." 
And  the  mighty  leader,  with  his  shaggy  locks  and  lordly 
mien,  passed  away  unjDardoned  and  unrepentant  to  the  last. 
What  other  country  would  have  allowed  him,  no  longer  a 
citizen  of  the  United  States,  to  hold  high  office  in,  and  frame 
the  organic  laws  of,  his  native  State  ?  Another,  whose  feeble 
frame  held  an  eagle  spirit,  dauntless,  unselfish,  patriotic, 
humanitarian  !  the  leader  in   the  House  of  Representatives, 


ETOWAH.  343 

as  the  former  was  in  the  Senate  -of  the  United  States,  stood 
up  upon  his  crutches  and  calmly  said :  "I  have  committed 
no  crime ;  I  shall  live  quietly  at  home  among  my  people." 
Nor  could  the  fetters  and  disease  engendered  by  prison  air 
break  his  spirit ;  and  when  death  came,  it  found  him  the 
governor  of  his  State  and  honored  throughout  the  Union. 

The  third,  an  ex-State  official,  as  prompt  to  "bend  the 
knee  that  thrift  might  follow  fawning,"  as  he  was  to  plunge 
the  people,  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  all  that  he  had, 
into  desperate  war,  espoused  the  cause  of  radicalism  and 
became  the  richest  man  in  the  State.  Twelve  years  before 
he  was  an  obscure  lawyer,  poor  and  almost  unknown.  Four 
years  before,  still  poor,  he  was  the  universally  trusted  ser- 
vant of  the  people;  two  years  before  their  heroic  civic  leader, 
whose  iron  will  scorned  to  treat  with  the  enemy  on  any  other 
basis  than  the  entire  independence  of  the  sovereign  State, 
which  he  seemed  to  consider,  as  did  Louis  XIV.,  the  king- 
dom of  France,  "  VEtat  f^est  moir^  And  thus  was  the  ballot 
placed  in  the  hands  of  ignorant  negroes  suddenly  emanci- 
pated. 

And  yet  in  many  of  the  Western  States  the  organic  law 
discriminated  directly  against  the  negro,  though  there  was 
but  one  negro  to  a  thousand  whites.  Even  Kansas,  which 
entered  the  Union  in  1864,  during  the  throes  of  that  bloody 
war  which  was  inaugurated  on  her  soil,  restricted  the  right 
of  suffrage  to  the  white  man.  Nevada,  whose  admission  to 
the  Union  was  subsequent  to  the  enactment  of  the  13th 
amendment,  denied  suffrage  to  "  any  negro.  Chinaman  or 
mulatto."  The  question  of  admitting  the  negro  to  suffi'age 
was  submitted  to  popular  vote  in  Connecticut,  Wisconsin 
and  Minnesota  in  the  autumn  of  186-5,  and  at  the  same  time 
in  Colorado  when  she  was  forming  her  Constitution  prepara- 


344  ETOWAH. 

tory  to  seeking  admission  to  the  Union,  and  in  all  four, 
under  control  of  the  Republican  party  at  the  time,  the  prop- 
osition was  defeated. 

In  Connecticut  only  those  negroes  were  allowed  to  vote 
who  were  admitted  freedmen  prior  to  1818.  New  York  per- 
mitted a  negro  to  vote  only  after  he  had  been  a  citizen  three 
years,  and  for  one  year  the  owner  of  a  freehold  worth  $250, 
free  of  all  incumbrances.  In  the  other  Northern  States  only 
white  men  were  allowed  to  vote. 

The  negroes  now  looked  to  Hallback  for  leadership,  and  his 
opposition  to  the  white  people,  as  a  race,  ceased  at  the  point 
where  it  menaced  the  personal  safety  of  his  former  mistress 
and  her  family. 

In  walking  through  the  square  he  heard  a  conversation 
which  convinced  him  that  danger  had  never  so  menaced 
them  before,  and  witnessed  a  scene  which  he  righth^  thought 
meant  trouble. 

A  group  of  young  men,  whose  excited  but  earnest  manner 
attracted  the  loungers  in  the  court-house   square  in  Etowah, 
were  discussing  the  events  of  the  previous  day.     The  myste- 
rious order,  called  "Ku-Klux,"  had  been  organized  in  various 
parts  of  the  South,  but  up  to  this  time  no  such  organization, 
it  was  thought,  had  been  perfected  in  this   State.     Whether 
these   young    men   contemplated  taking   the   law   in  their 
own  hands  in  this  manner  is  not  known,  but  they  were  evi- 
dentlv  much  excited    about   the    sudden  arrest  of  several 
prominent  citizens  on  the   alleged  ground  that  they  had  re- 
fused to  deliver  to  the  government  detective,   John  Hefflin, 
property  seized  by  him  as  cotton  which  had  belonged  to  the 
Confederate  Government,  but   which  they  maintained  had 
been  raised  after  the  Confederate  Government  had  ceased  to 
exist. 


ETOWAH.  345 

Hallback  listened  attentively  to  the  conversation.  The 
previous  night  four  dwellings  had  been  burned ;  the  night 
before  thirteen  fires  had  been  started  in  different  portions  of 
the  town.  The  suggestion  of  Hefflin  to  the  ^'Torch-Bearers" 
was  bearing  its  fruit ;  arson  was  becoming  a  crime  of  nightly 
occurrence.  Arson  was  almost  unknown  in  the  days  of 
slavery.  The  excitement  was  evidently  increasing  as  the  dis- 
cussion proceeded. 

"Shall  we  be  plundered  remorselessly,  with  no  law  to  pro- 
tect us,  with  the  right  of  trial  by  jury  denied  us,  and  the 
military  only  recognized  ?"  said  one. 

Hallback  was  not  seen  by  them,  a  small  house  concealing 
him  from  their  view,  but  he  listened  intently. 

"Shall  we  be  robbed,  insulted  and  traduced  by  the  follow- 
ers of  an  ex-slave-driver,  whose  brutality  in  the  days  of 
slavery  made  his  name  a  by-word  and  a  reproach  ?"  asked  a 
second. 

"He  has  openly  avowed  his  purpose  to  instigate  a  war  of 
races,  and  has  publicly  advocated  the  doctrine  of  miscegena- 
tion, undermining  the  mutual  trust  and  confidence  of  the 
white  and  black  races,  and  is,  therefore,  an  outlaw  !"  exclaimed 
a  determined  citizen. 

"Aye!"  responded  another,  "the  sanctity  of  the  family  is 
the  most  sacred  of  human  rights ;  social  order  is  at  stake. 
Shall  a  handful  of  men  set  at  naught  the  rights  of  manhood 
and  womanhood,  overturn  the  old  English  law,  'a  man's 
house  is  his  castle,'  and  make  our  servants  secret  spies  and 
informers  ?     This  state  of  things  is  intolerable. " 

"That  is  all  true,"  remarked  the  more  patient  and  conserv- 
ative, "but  he  is  backed  by  the  United  States  Government, 
and  we  had  better  submit,  for  the  present,  until  the  truth  is 


346  ETOWAH. 

made  known  in  Washington,  and  this  tyranny  breaks  down 
the  party  that  inaugurated  it." 

"Bosh!"  replied  the  indignant  listener,  "what  people  who 
helped  to  forge  their  own  chains  were  ever  worthy  of 
freedom  ?  Last  night  five  hundred  armed  negro  men,  who 
had  abandoned  their  labors  on  plantations  were  in  the  city, 
making  night  hideous  with  their  fierce  threats  of  burning, 
riot  and  outrage.  I  heard  this  man  Washburn  speak  to  them 
in  the  court-house  square,  urging  them  to  deeds  which  none 
but  drunken  semi-savages  could  have  hailed  with  such  shouts 
as  they  did.  I  tell  you,  if  the  whole  army  of  the  United 
States  were  here  to  enforce  the  license  thus  advocated,  death, 
especially  the  death  of  our  daughters,  would  be  preferable  to 
submission !" 

''I  counsel  decisive,  but  just  action,"  said  a  gray-haired 
man,  "and  I  do  it  rather  for  the  sake  of  the  future  of  the 
negroes  than  of  the  whites  in  this  country.  I  do  not  fear 
negro  supremacy;  nor  do  I  think  the  war  of  races,  if  inau- 
gurated, would  continue  long.  It  would  end  in  massacre. 
In  case  of  a  conflict  they  would  be  swept  away,  while  yonder 
mi-creant,  with  his  •ill-gotten  gains,  would  be  safe  at  the 
North  heralded  as  a  martyr.  For  the  sake  of  the  negroes, 
th^n,  I  say  to  you,  forbear!  Warn  him  to  leave;  then  go 
to  Washington  in  such  numbers  and  in  such  manner  as  to 
insure  respect,  and  make  known  your  grievances.  When  all 
this  has  been  done,  and  no  relief  is  given,  then  'let  justice 
be  done  though  the  heavens  fall! '" 

As  the  old  gentleman,  who,  while  walking  in  the  park,  had, 
like  Hallback,  accidentally  heard  the  young  men  conversing, 
strode  slowly  away,  every  hat  was  lifted  in  token  of  respect  for 
the  venerable  Colonel  Hugh  Leslie. 


ETOWAH.  347 


Some  ferocious,  blood-thirsty  braggarts  are  cowards  at  heart, 
but  Washburn  was  not  one  of  these.  Coarse,  brutal,  with 
strong  common  sense  and  but  little  education,  this  mu.scular 
man  was  bold  and  courageous  to  a  remarkable  degree.  De- 
ceived by  past  submission  on  the  part  of  the  people  of  Eto- 
wah, he  became  bolder  and  more  threatening  after  this. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


HALLBACK. 


'^  Homo  .^um:  humani  nil  a  me  alienum  puto."      (Terence's  play, 
Hoauton,  Act  III.,  Scene  V.) 

To  the  human  eye  life  is,  lik^;  the  ocean,  limitless  as  the 
skie^,  and  Hall  back  now  stood  on  its  sunrise  shore.  To  him 
the  axiomatic  advice  uttered  by  Tacitus  ov^r  a  thousand 
ycrirs  ago,  "It  is  better  to  look  on  the  dark  side  of  things," 
was  meaningless,  for  youth  is  ever  sanauine.  At  first  the 
sympathies  of  the  white  people  were  with  him,  because  it 
wa<  evident  that  he  desired  to  promote  a  kindly  feeling 
among  the  blacks  and  harmony  between  the  races.  But  he 
stood  alone  since  the  death  of  "Uncle  Barney,"  like  a  log  in 
mid-stream  in  time  of  a  great  flood,  utterl}^  unable  to  steer 
the  forces  that  seethed  about  him.  To?ide  unconditionally 
with  the  whites  meant,  he  thought,  abase  treachery  to  his 
race;  to  side  with  the  unscrupulous  leaders  whom  they  now 
followed  like  "blind  leaders  of  the  blind"  seemed  to  him 
to  lead  them  to  certain  ruin,  which  would  end  in  an  Iliad 
of  woes!  For  the  whites,  it  was  enough  that  he  was  a 
Rndical  leader  and  a  Republican  voter,  sustaining  the  "scal- 
lawags"  of  the  land.  For  tliis,  they  affirmed,  he  ought  to 
be  behind  a  mule  and  a  plow,  with  a  "driver"  like  Washburn 
was,  to  "  teach  him  his  proper  place."  The  blacks  were  be- 
ing taught  by  Washburn  and  his  associates  to  regard  him 
as  a  traitor  to  their  race,  and  George  Washburn  was  now  their 
acknowledged  leader. 

Thus  the  poor  fellow  was  isolated,  more  than  he  had  ever 


ETOWAH.  349 

been  as  a  slave,  bv  circumstances  beyond  his  control,  which 
finally  aligned  him,  owing  to  his  combattive  nature,  among 
the  most  extreme  of  the  negro  leaders.  Under  Washburn's 
leadership  the  idea  that  the  quickest  way  to  get  their  newly- 
ordained  rights  was  to  destro}^  the  property  of  their  former 
owners,  seemed  to  be  rapidly  taking  possession  of  the  negro 
mind,  and  to  this  doctrine  Hallback  had  openly  announced 
that  he  could  neither  acquiesce  nor  remain  indifferent.  Sure- 
ly nothing  can  be  more  difficult  than  to  become  the  leader 
of  a  people  suddenly  elevated  from  slavery  to  citizenship. 
The  best  trained  and  most  experienced  intellects  may  well 
hesitate  to  assume  this  role,  especially  when  the  logic  of 
events  arrays  the  ex-slaves  of  an  inferior  race  in  solid  phalanx 
against  those  to  whom  they  have  looked  all  their  lives  for 
counsel,  sympathy  and  support.  To  Hallback  the  field  was 
limited  at  first  to  his  native  county,  and  then  to  the  adja- 
cent counties.  But,  among  the  two  thousand  negro  men  with 
whom  he  counselled,  there  were  not  fifty  who  could  read  and 
write.  To  them  the  twenty  thousand  troops  that  had  cap- 
tured the  town  of  Etowah  seemed  the  largest  army  in  exist- 
ence. To  them  the  story  of  the  battles  fought  during  the 
long  war  of  four  years'  duration  was  incomprehensible,  and  the 
collapse  of  the  Confederacy  caused  them  utter  amazement. 

Their  mental  horizon  was  limited  to  the  plantation  and 
other  plantations.  Their  ignorance  was  the  corner-stone  of 
slavery.  Admit  that  their  masters  had  been  overcome  and 
forced  to  lay  aside  their  weapons — nay,  more,  to  yield  up  all 
rights  of  ownership  to  their  slaves — seemed  to  their  ignorant 
minds  and  vivid  imaginations  the  realization  of  a  dream  as 
wild  and  enchanting  as  any  portrayed  in  the  Arabian  Nights. 
Thus  deluded,  they  listened  to  the  suggestions  of  Hefflin, 
Washburn    and   the   sanctimonious   Wellington   Napoleon 


350  ETOWAH. 

Potts,  and  confidently  prepared  to  claim  and  take  possession 
of  the  homes  of  their  late  masters  as  soon  as  the  promised  con- 
fiscation act  should  be  enacted.  Meanwhile  the  information 
gained  by  Hallback  weighed  like  a  nightmare  upon  his  mind 
and  conscience.  Its  import,  he  felt,  was  exceedingly  serious 
and  probably  meant  the  killing  of  George  Washburn.  The 
man  who  had  spurned  him  from  his  presence  the  very  day 
that  he  overheard  the  young  men  talking,  because  he  refused 
to  lend  himself  to  further  his  corrupt  schemes,  was  thus 
threatened.  Vendetta  was  stalking  through  the  land,  and 
in  his  own  heart  he  felt  sufficient  animosity  to  revenge  the 
death  of  "Uncle  Barney."  But  he  could  not  persuade  him- 
self to  become  by  silence  an  accomplice  to  his  murder  by 
others,  and  there  had  been  no  personal  difficulty  between 
Washburn  and  himself  that  would  justify  either  in  taking 
the  life  of  the  other. 

Besides,  his  ambition  was  Utopian  in  its  scope,  and  was 
no  less  a  motive  than  to  lead  his  race  back  to  the  African 
continent,  the  land  of  their  forefathers. 

To  whom  could  he  turn  for  advice  ? 

He  reflected  upon  the  situation,  and  the  more  he  reflected 
the  more  perplexed  he  became. 

Had  the  negroes  shown  that  they  were  capable  of  using 
the  ballot  safely  ? 

The  county  treasurer  was  a  negro  who  could  not  read  or 
write,  and  was  notoriously  corrupt.  The  negro  superintend- 
ent of  public  instruction  was  under  indictment  for  embez- 
zlement and  fraud.  The  late  treasurer  in  the  county  where 
the  State  capital  lies  was  a  negro,  who  could  neither  read  nor 
write,  and  who  was  killed  by  another  negro  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore for  a  disgraceful  intrigue.  Many  of  the  members  of  the 
Legislature  were  negroes  who  could  neither  read  nor  write, 


ETOWAH.  351 

and  the  grand  jury,  sitting  at  tiie  time,  was  composed  of  ne- 
groes who  were  totally  illiterate.  Among  all  the  members 
of  his  party,  Colonel  Barnum  alone  had  listened  patiently 
and  counseled  wisely.     Colonel  Barnum  had  said  to  him : 

"  Of  course  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  political  mat- 
ters here,  but  I  will  say  to  you  that  the  qualification  of  a 
juror  under  the  law  is  a  proper  subject  for  the  decision  of 
the  courts ;  and  it  will  not  be  pretended  that  an  illiterate  ne- 
gro or  white  man  is  competent  to  exercise  the  functions  of  a 
judge." 

" But,"  said  Hallback,  "these  men  have  assured  us  that 
the  military  will  appoint  and  remove  judges  for  us  as  they 
please,  and  our  people  believe  that  they  can  dictate  who  the 
judges  shall  be." 

"You  need  not  fear  that,"  replied  Barnum.  "The  mili- 
tary commander  should,  and  I  have  no  doubt  will,  maintain 
the  just  power  of  the  judiciary,  and  he  should  not  permit 
the  civil  authorities  and  laws  to  be  embarrassed  by  military 
interference.  Continue  the  good  work  you  have  commenced ; 
be  conservative,  and  assure  the  negroes  that  their  best  friends 
are  not  strangers  who  live  a  thousand  miles  distant,  and  who 
care  nothing  for  them  except  to  use  them  as  the  monkey  did 
the  cat,  to  pull  the  chestnuts  out  of  the  fire." 

Barnum  rarely  joked,  especially  with  inferiors,  but  he 
realized  the  force  of  this  homel}^  illustration,  and  Hallback 
had  used  it  to  advantage  at  the  last  meeting  of  the  "  League." 

Thus  the  breach  was  widened  between  him  and  the  scheming 
and  unscrupulous  and  self-constituted  leaders  of  the  deluded 
negroes,  who  were  quick  to  turn  from  one  extreme  to  the  other. 

But  the  very  course  of  action  which  Barnum  had  assured 
hirn  would  not  be  taken  was  suddenly  adopted,  and   the 


352  ETOWAH. 

judiciary  itself  was  made  subordinate  to  the  military  power. 
The  right  of  trial  by  jury  was  also  practically  abolished. 

All  men  who  had  served  the  Confederate  States  Govern- 
ment were,  by  military  order,  prohibited  from  serving  on 
juries.  This  practically  disfranchised  the  white  men,  nine- 
tenths  of  whom  had  been  in  the  Confederate  service. 

Self-reliance  was  Hallback's  boast  at  this  period.  With- 
out knowing  that  he  was  quoting  from  the  most  famous  freed 
slave  of  antiquity,  he  said  to  himself:  "I  am  a  man,  and 
nothing  that  belongs  to  man  is  alien  to  me." 

The  more  Hallback  deliberated,  the  harder  it  was  for  him 
to  refrain  from  warning  Washburn,  though  he  was  his  most 
formidable  enemy,  of  the  peril  which  awaited  him  if  he  per- 
sisted in  his  course.  Finally  he  arose  from  his  sleepless  bed 
and  proceeded  to  the  house  where  Washburn  boarded.  It 
was  a  low  negro  tenement,  in  the  centre  of  the  town,  in  a 
disreputable  locality.  He  knocked  at  the  door,  and  was 
shown  to  Washburn's  room  by  a  young  negress.  There  he 
knocked  again,  and  was  answered  by  the  summons : 
''Come  in." 

He  entered,  hat  in  hand,  with  respectful  manner,  and  was 
motioned  to  a  chair  by  Washburn .  The  great  physiognomist, 
Lavater,  whom  Goethe  called  the  wisest  of  men,  would  have 
been  impressed  by  Washburn's  appearance.  A  man  of  mas- 
sive proportions,  six  feet  and  two  inches  in  height  and  mus- 
cular enough  to  have  challenged  any  pugilist  to  a  trial  of 
physical  strength,  his  face  was  like  that  of  a  mastiff.  Me- 
tempsychosis seemed  reversed,  for  in  that  malicious  face  the 
spirit  of  the  bull-dog  seemed  to  have  gone.  A  child  would 
have  shrunk  from  him  in  terror.  With  this  countenance, 
expressive  of  the  utmost  malice,  he  gruffly  said  to  Hallback : 


ETOWAH.  353 

^'  AVhat  have  you  come  here  again  for,  and  why  have  you 
selected  this  late  hour  ?  " 

It  was  nearly  midnight,  and  it  did  seem  strange  that  Hall- 
back  should  iiave  called  at  so  late  an  hour ;  buj:  his  restless 
spirit  would  not  admit  of  longer  delay. 

"Mr.  Washburn,"  he  answered,  "I  will  not  pretend  to  be 
a  friend  of  yours ;  in  fact,  I  consider  you  my  enemy ;  whether 
I  am  yours  or  not  let  results  determine.  I  have  certainly 
called  on  a  friendly  mission  now.  I  have  called  to  tell  you 
that  your  life  is  in  danger.  I  think  you  will  certainly 
be  killed  if  vou  don't  change  vour  tactics."  He  then  related, 
without  naming  any  individuals,  what  he  had  heard ;  then 
arose  and  started  to  leave  the  room,  when,  in  a  peremptory 
voice,  Washburn  said  :  "Halt!  By  God!  you  shall  not  leave 
this  room  until  vou  tell  me  the  names  of  the  men  who  sent 
you  here  with  these  threats.  I  despise  them  as  I  despise 
you,  and  I  would  kick  you  out  of  this  room  if  I  did  not 
have  better  use  for  you." 

"  That's  about  the  size  of  it,"  said  a  man  as  he  emerged 
from  the  closet  and  stood  between  Hallback  and  the  door. 
Turning  to  see  who  this  man  was,  Hallback  was  amazed  to 
see  that  he  was  practically  a  prisoner,  for  Hefflin  stood  at  the 
door  and  Washburn  was  in  the  act  of  advancing  toward  him. 
Both  were  armed.  What  would  have  happened  is  not  known, 
for  at  that  moment  several  voices  without  the  house  de- 
manded admittance.  Hefflin  leaped  through  the  window 
into  darkness.  Washburn  extinguished  the  light  and 
stood  upright  behind  the  table,  his  pistol  drawn,  and  ready 
for  what  he  rightly  conceived  to  be  the  visit  of  the  Ku-klux 
Klan. 

"You  cannot  come  in,"  said  he,  closing  the  door  just  as 

23 


354  ETOWAH. 

Hallback  stepped  from  the  room  into  the  hall  and  into  the 
midst  of  a  number  of  masked  men.  He  was  totally  unpre- 
pared for  this,  and  was  in  imminent  danger  until  the  leader 
said  :  "  Pinion  his  arms  and  guard  him — now  go  in." 

In  a  moment  the  door  was  broken  down  and  they  ordered 
Washburn  to  come  forth  and  be  prepared  to  leave  the  com- 
munity forever  or  suffer  the  penalty. 

"  Take  that  for  my  answer  ! "  he  cried,  firing  his  pistol  into 
their  ranks  as  he  spoke. 

The  fire  was  returned  by  a  score  of  shots,  and  the  fearless 
desperado  lay  dead  upon  the  floor,  his  smoking  pistol  clenched 
in  his  now  nerveless  hand,  his  pulse  stilled  forever. 

In  spite  of  what  he  thought  would  have  been  his  own  fate 
had  this  Ku-klux  Klan  not  appeared  just  as  it  did,  Hallback 
was  dreadfully  shocked,  and  indignantly  denounced  as  a 
dastardly  outrage  the  killing  of  the  very  man  whom  he  had 
felt  that  he  would  have  to  kill. 

Strange  to  say,  none  of  the  masked  men  resented  Hall- 
back's  speech,  a  solemn  silence  brooded  over  the  midnight 
scene ;  his  arms  were  unpinioned  and  a  voice  in  the  darkness 
said  to  him  :  "It  is  done ;  you  can  go ;  we  do  not  wish  to  harm 
you." 

In  less  time  than  it  has  taken  to  relate  it,  the  band  had 
disappeared,  the  policemen  went  on  their  beats  as  usual,  and 
it  was  only  when  the  Mayor  was  notified  by  Hallback  of  the 
tragedy  that  he  summoned  citizens  to  assist  him  in  investi- 
gating this  first  act  performed  by  that   dreaded  organization. 

It  all  happened  in  a  few  minutes,  and  yet,  when  the  jury 
of  inquest  arrived  at  the  house,  they  found  on  the  front  door 
the  plain  outlines  of  a  cofiin  surmounted  by  the  skeleton 
head  and  cross-bones. 

The  hushed  voices  of  hundreds  of  frightened  negroes  were 


ETOWAH.  355 

heard  in  the  vicinity,  and  it  seemed  that  the  death  of  their 
Radical  white  leader  would  meet  with  summary  vengeance, 
until  the  light  of  the  lanterns  show  the  skull  and  cross- 
bones  above  a  coffin  drawn  upon  the  door,  but  apparently 
real  objects. 

"Who  placed  them  there?  How  is  it  possible  for /o^^s  to  do 
it  in  so  short  a  time  ?"  Such  were  their  questions.  This 
mysterious  symbol  of  death  seemed  to  their  excited  imagina- 
tion to  be  of  supernatural  origin  ;  superstitious  fear  gained 
the  ascendency  over  thoughts  of  vengeance,  and  they  scat- 
tered and  disappeared  as  rapidly  as  the  masked  men  had 
done ;  and  as  they  fled,  a  tall,  black-robed,  funereal  figure 
arose  near  the  door  and  towered  up,  first  five  feet,  then  ten, 
and  finally  he  stood  fifteen  feet  in  height,  rockets  shooting 
meanwhile  from  beneath  his  arms,  from  his  sides  and  back, 
while  the  single  eye  in  the  midst  of  the  masked  forehead 
gleamed  like  a  living  coal  amid  the  pyrotechnic  display.  Be- 
ing totally  unacquainted  with  pyrotechnics,  they  fled  panic- 
stricken.  But  one  solitary  negro  remained,  and  it  was  he 
who  had  hurriedly  informed  the  Mayor  and  had  now  re- 
turned with  the  posse,  and  now  pointed  out  the  scene  and 
related  the  incidents  of  that  terrible  vendetta. 

That  solitary  negro  was  Hallback,  and  his  vituperation  of 
the  "cowardly  assassins"  was  enough  to  have  aroused  the 
negroes  to  take  summary  vengeance   had    they  heard   him. 

Forgotten  now  was  the  infamous  character  of  the  dead 
man  ;  forgotten  the  murder  of  old  uncle  Barney ;  the  one 
thought  was  that  the  acknowledged  boldest  leader  of  his  race, 
however  malignant  his  character,  had  been  slain.  Forgotten 
were  prudence,  enmity,  malice,  ambition,  which  fled  from 
his  impulsive  heart  in  the  presence  of  the  assassinated  dead. 


356  ETOWAH. 

Finally,  he  seemed  suddenly  to  remember  the  importance 
that  a  court  might  attach  to  his  words  and  was  silent. 

The  Mayor  turned  to  the  crowd  which  had  now  collected 
and  said  :  ''If  any  one  else  present  was  a  witness  to  this 
shooting  let  him  stand  forth."  Instantly  Hefflin  stepped  to 
the  front  and  said: 

"I  saw  George  Washburn  when  he  fell  dead,  jour  honor." 

"Who  was  his  murderer?" 

"There  were  several;  but  the  man  who  fired  the  fatal  shot 
is  the  negro  who  has  expressed  himself  so  violenth',  and 
there  he  stands,"  pointing  to  Hallbeck. 

"You  infamous  liar;  I'll  kill  you  for  this!"  said  Hallback^ 
springing  toward  Hefflin. 

"Arrest  him !"  said  the  Mayor,  and  before  he  could  make 
his  way  through  the  crowd,  he  had  been  thrown  to  the 
ground,  in  spite  of  his  resistance,  and  pinioned  again.  Was 
ever  circumstantial  evidence  stronger  against  any  innocent 
prisoner  ? 

Hefflin  declared  that  Hallback  had  done  it  to  avenge  the 
death  of  old  Barney,  and  that  the  crowd  fired  wildly,  while 
Hallback  placed  his  pistol  to  Washburn's  head.  Meanwhile 
Hallback  was  not  armed,  and  had  gone  there  on  a  mission 
of  mercy. 

Behold  him  a  month  later,  a  victim  subject  to  the  merciless 
orders  of  the  accomplice  of  the  murderer  of  old  Barney,  now 
the  preferred  officer  of  the  great  government  which  he,  the 
innocent  prisoner,  had  so  gallantly  served!  Confined 'in  a 
cell  in  Fort  Pulaski,  and  chained  down,  like  Bonivard,  with 
the  ceaseless  requiem  of  the  waves  around  and  about  him, 
charged  with  the  murder  of  George  Washburn  and  denied 
the  right  of  trial  by  jury ! 

At  last  the  darkness  is   relieved,   and   Captain  Rook,  the 


ETOWAH.  357 

commander  of  the  fort,  stood  in  the  door-way.  He  ordered 
the  prisoner  to  stand  up.  Then  Hallback  submitted  with- 
out a  murmur  as  the  orderly  searched  thoroughly  his  per- 
son and  pockets.  Hefflin  and  Captain  Rook  then  spoke 
together,  and  Captain  Rook  ordered  the  barber  to  be  sent 
for  to  shave  the  prisoner's  head.  He  was  then  ordered  back 
in  his  cell.  In  an  hour  he  was  brought  out  blindfolded, 
carried  down  into  a  room,  seated  into  a  chair  and  the  ban- 
dage taken  from  his  eyes.  Then  Hefflin  said  to  him,  "Hall- 
back,  I  have  an  order  to  put  you  through,  and  I  am  going  to  do 
it.  Do  you  wish  to  see  a  minister  first  ?"  This  was  enough 
to  cause  any  ordinary  man  to  shudder,  but,  before  Hallback 
could  answer,  Hefflin  stepped  aside,  the  bandage  was  taken 
from  his  eyes  and  he  saw  a  soldier  standing  near  a  brass 
cannon  with  a  string  from  the  cannon  to  his  head,  and 
wherever  he  turned  his  eyes,  the  cannon  was  ranged  upon 
him.  His  head  was  then  lathered  with  two  scrubbing 
brushes,  and  there  were  two  or  three  razors  lying  on  the 
table.  He  was  then  made  to  stand  up  and  be  measured 
against  the  wall. 

Dviring  this  time,  Hefflin   said  to  him,  "Now,  sir,  I've  got 
you,  and  if  you  don't  tell   what  you  have  heard,  and  what 
you  have  done,   and   what  you   know   about  the  murder  of 
George  Washburn,     I   am  going   to   send  you   to  kingdom 
come !" 

With  a  fierce  look  and  an  undaunted  manner,  Hallback  an- 
swered : 

"I  know  nothing  whatever  about  it." 

"You  need  not  tell   me  a   lie,"  said  the  baffled  detective ; 
"the  rebels  have  been  posting  you,  but  it's  no  use." 

Hefflin  then  ordered  him  to  be  taken  back  to  his  cell,  say- 
ing he  would  give  him  one  day  for  reflection  before  carrying 


358  ETOWAH. 

into  execution  the  sentence  .passed  upon  him,  and  adding 
that  he  would  have  his  liberty  if  he  would  turn  State's  evi- 
dence and  swear  who  the  guilty  parties  were. 

He  was  then  put  back  in  his  cell,  where  he  remained  in 
solitary  confinement  for  five  days. 

Again  he  was  brought  forth,  carried  to  another  part  of  the 
fort,  and  the  "sweat-box"  was  shown  to  him.  This  is  an 
instrument  of  torture  unknown  to  military  science. 

"I  will  put  you  there  for  a  month,"  said  Hefflin,  "if  you 
don't  reveal  all  you  know." 

Hallback  looked  at  this  torture-box,  which  would  rival 
the  rack  of  mediaeval  times. 

But,  though  a  slow  death  b}^  torture  thus  stared  him  in 
the  face,  the  honest,  truthful  black  man  thus  rebuked  the 
infamous  white  renegade :  "You  can  put  me  there;  you  can 
kill  me  if  you  will,  but  I  cannot  utter  a  falsehood  which 
will  implicate  innocent  persons.  I  know  nothing  of  this 
murder." 

He  was  then  placed  in  the  "sweat-box." 

It  was  fitted  in  a  closet  in  the  walls  of  the  fort,  and  was  a 
little  wider  than  Hallback's  body ;  the  door  closed  within 
three  inches  of  his  breast,  and  the  only  air  he  breathed  was 
through  a  few  auger  holes  in  the  door.  The  wooden  sides  of 
this  box,  by  means  of  a  screw,  are  compressed  closer  and 
closer,  when  torture  is  inflicted,  until  the  individual  can 
scarcely  breathe ;  then  a  stream  of  hot  air  or  steam,  is  thrown 
upon  the  victim  and  he  is  almost  stifled ;  a  pressure  is-  thus 
put  upon  his  heart  and  lungs  until  the  agony  of  his  position 
is  such  that  human  nature  sinks  under  the  infliction. 

He  was  left  in  this  sweat-box  for  forty  hours  under  the 
belief  that  he  would  thus  suffer  thirty  days,  and  it  was  mid- 
summer, in  a  warm  climate,  charged  with  malaria.      When 


ETOWAH.  359 

taken  out,  his  limbs  were  swollen  and  very  painful,  and  yet 
he  refused  to  the  end  to  give  the  testimony  demanded. 

In  all  revolutions  crimes  like  this  are  unintentionally  le- 
galized, when  a  government  is  misled  by  bad  men  in  ofl&cial 
places. 

The  government  knew  nothing  of  the  existence  of  this 
^'sweat-box."  But  the  "loyalist,"  Hefflin,  had  had  his  re- 
venge, and  Hallback  could  well  have  repeated  Madame  Ro- 
land's words  :  "  Oh  !  Liberty,  how  many  crimes  are  commit- 
ted in  thy  name !" 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


FROM    THE    NEWSPAPER. 


''To  the  unsophisticated  Enghshman,  to  the  ignorant  Frenchman 
or  German,  an  American  is  an  American.  If  he  is  not  rampantly 
modern,  sensationally  progressive  and  furiously  material,  he  is  noth- 
ing at  all." 

In  the  capital  city  of  the  State  lived  a  former  friend  and 
college-mate  of  Henry  Latane,  Mr.  Worthy  Graball  by  name. 
Mr.  Worthy  Graball  was  the  editor  of  the  Radical  paper 
there,  and  was  at  this  period  very  friendly  and  influential 
with  the  military  authorities  who  ruled  the  State,  and  with 
the  political  renegades  who  desired  to  govern  it. 

Latane  had  been  frequently  amused  at  the  extraordinar}'' 
success  which  attended  the  political  somerset  of  the  "shifty" 
young  editor,  Mr.  Worthy  Graball,  who  had  availed  himself 
of  the  lucrative  opportunities  which  Latane  had  scornfully 
rejected.  Mr.  Worthy  Graball  had  successfully  substituted 
assertion  for  argument,  and  assurance  and  "cheek"  for  knowl- 
edge and  ability. 

Mr.  Graball  was  a  very  shrewd  man;  though  in  no  sense 
a  scholar,  he  devoted  his  talents  to  subjects  that  suit  the  in- 
telligence of  the  average  mechanic.  Politics  filled  his  paper, 
and  the  shears  filled  his  editorial  columns,  except  when  they 
were  filled  with  matter  paid  for  at  so  much  a  line,  though 
seemingly  the  independent  expression  of  an  honest  editor, 
seeking  to  mould  public  opinion  on  a  disinterested  plane. 
Mr.  Graball  was  also  a  very  enterprising  man,  who  construed 
public  spirit  to  mean  private  profit;  and  he  faced  the 
world  with  a  genial,  happy-go-lucky  expression  at  all  times. 


ETOWAH.  361 

except  when  occasion  demanded  that  he  should  frown  down 
any  insinuations  as  to  his  being  philanthropic  for  purposes 
of  revenue  only.  At  such  times  he  looked  at  his  Mccuser 
with  an  indignant  gaze  at  first,  then  wrung  his  hand  with 
his  own  right  hand  in  a  deeply  injured  manner,  while  his 
left  hand  was  behind  his  back,  held  open  to  receive  the 
bribe  offered.  This  is  a  metaphorical  analysis  of  Mr.  Grab- 
all's  character,  of  course,  but  it  properly  describes  it.  His 
paper  was  the  "organ"  of  the  most  powerful  and  the  most 
corrupt  politician  of  the  day,  who  held  a  large  mortgage 
upon  it  and  who,  until  that  mortgage  was  paid,  owned  Mr. 
Graball,  body,  mind  and  soul. 

At  college  Mr.  Graball  had  been  noted  as  a  "boot-lick,"  but 
his  fawning  obsequiousness  to  this  great  political  magnate 
was  sickening  in  its  humility. 

And  yet  it  paid  him  well,  for  Mr.  Graball  was  already 
prosperous,  and  he  had  been  too  shrewd  a  student  of  the 
methods  of  his  corrupt  patron  not  to  learn  how  to  utilize  it. 
He  was  an  excellent  reporter,  but  a  very  poor  editor ;  but  when 
his  paper  lacked  spicy,  entertaining  news,  he  supplied  facts 
from  his  phosphorescent  fancy. 

Mr.  Graball  was  an  intimate  friend. of  Mr.  Wellington  Xa- 
poleon  Potts.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  both  despised  a  gen- 
tleman as  being  uneqal  to  the  exigencies  of  the  "New  South," 
(so  called.) 

As  a  rule,  the  editor  who  loves  the  whole  world,  and  is  al- 
ways in  a  good  humor  with  both  supporters  and  opponents, 
and  is  at  all  times  apparently  utterly  free  from  malice,  when 
an  emergency  arises  won't  do  to  rely  upon.  He  is  apt  to  be 
selfish  to  the  core  of  his  heart.  Without  convictions  of  any 
sort,  he  is  a  sensationalist  always — as  eager  to  do  honor  to 
the  man  whb  caused  desolation  and  sorrow  to  take  the  place 


362  ETOWAH. 

of  prosperity  and  happiness,  provided  he  be  powerful  and  in- 
fluential, as  to  honor  him  who  righth^  deserves  the  suffrages 
of  the  people. 

But  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Graball  it  will  not  be  just  to  assert 
that  he  was  malicious,  for  he  was  naturally  an  amiable, 
clever,  kindly  fellow,  whose  better  nature  had  been  warped 
and  dwarfed  by  circumstances  to  which,  had  he  been  the  great 
man  that  he  claimed  to  be,  he  would  not   have  succumbed. 

No  act  of  cruelty  could  be  traced  to  him,  and  many  acts 
of  little  kindnesses  showed  that,  at  heart,  he  was  not  a  bad 
man.  Hence  Latane  overlooked  his  foibles,  laughed  at  his 
pretensions,  but  was  not  in  an}^  sense  his  enemy. 

Mr.  Graball's  intimate  associates  were  always  of  an  intel- 
lectual calibre,  inferior  to  his  own.  He  was  studiously  care- 
ful not  to  be  seen  in  the  company  of  men  whose  attainments 
were  superior  to  his  own. 

Stunner  admired  him  greatly,  consulted  him  frequently, 
and  plied  him  with  flattery,  so  that  such  notices  of  his  de- 
parture or  arrival  as,  "Our  eminent  financier,  Mr.  J.  B. 
Stunner,  returned  from  an  important  visit  to  Etowah,"  or 
"our  distinguished  lawyer,  Mr.  J.  B.  Stunner,  will  attend 
the  circuit  court  to  be  held  in  Starebuck,"  were  frequently 
chronicled  in  the  Daily  Gazette. 

Withal,  Mr.  Graball  was  considered  a  jolly,  good  fellow, 
friendly  with  everybody  on  earth,  inimical  to  no  one,  but 
always  an  assiduous  devotee  to  the  interests  of  "number 
one."  He  looked  over  the  head  of  the  man  who  insulted 
him ;  yet  he  treasured  it  up  and  returned  the  compliment  in 
cold  type,  but  in  a  manner  so  veiled  that  neither  legal  nor 
personal  satisfaction  could  be  demanded  without  subjecting 
the  aggrieved  citizen  to  ridicule. 

But  Latane  looked  in  vain   for  a  detailed  criticism  of  the 


ETOWAH.  368 

killing  of  George  Washburn  in  the  columns  of  Worthy  Grab- 
all's  paper.  The  Radical  newspapers  at  the  North  furiously 
denounced  it,  and  called  for  the  punishment  of  the  murder- 
ers.    Mr.  Graball's  paper  only  noticed  it  as  an  item  of  news- 

Henry  Latane  felt  justly  indignant  at  the  arrest  of  Hall- 
back,  whom  he  felt  was  as  innocent  of  the  murder  of  George 
Washburn  as  he  was,  and  he  had  so  stated  in  an  editorial 
which  scathingly  criticised  Hefflin. 

It  was  now  incumbent  upon  Henry  Latane  to  criticise  in 
a  more  general  and  impartial  manner  the  killing  of  George 
Washburn,  an  act  w^hich,  in  common  with  good  citizens 
generally,  he  deeply  regretted.  The  indignities  and  suffer- 
ings to  which  Hallback  was  being  subjected  he  was  igno- 
rant of.     It  was  a  difficult  task,  but  he  wrote  as  follows  : 

"  In  Sanborn's  '  Life  of  John  Brown,'  the  biographer 
states  as  a  fact  that  John  Brown  was  'the  originator  and  per- 
former of  the  executions  of  pro-slavery  men  who  were  bru- 
tally and  mysteriously  assassinated  in  1856,  on  Pottawatamie 
creek,  in  Kansas,  although  the  hands  that  dealt  the  wounds 
were  those  of  others. 

"  The  next  year  John  Brown  had  conferences  with,  and 
obtained  encouragement  and  aid  in  money  from,  leading 
abolitionist  agitators  in  New  England.  A  year  later,  with 
the  aid  thus  furnished  him,  he  had  a  thousand  pikes  made 
in  Connecticut  for  his  invasion  of  the  South  in  the  guise  of 
a  liberator  of  slaves.  Then  he  issued  the  following  pronun- 
ciamento  :  '  Give  a  slave  a  pike  and  you  make  him  a  man. 
A  ravine  is  better  than  a  plain.  Roads  and  naountain-sides 
can  be  held  by  resolute  men  against  ten  times  their  force. 
Nat.  Turner,  with  fifty  men,  held  Virginia  five  weeks;  the 
same  number,  well  organized  and  armed,  can  shake  the  sys- 


.^64  ETOWAH. 

tern  of  slavery  out  of  the  State.     Twenty  men  in  the  Alle- 
ghanies  could  break  slavery  to  pieces  in  two  years.' 

"  Supported  by  the  coterie  of  Radical  abolitionists  and  the 
money  subscribed,  this  fanatic  made  his  memorable  attack 
at  Harper's  Ferry.  Emboldened  by  his  bloody  and  law- 
less career  in  Kansas,  he  now  deliberately  undertook  to 
incite  servile  insurrection  and  inaugurate  the  murder  of 
thousands  of  innocent  families  in  Virginia.  And  thus  did 
George  Washburn  attempt  to  do  in  this  State.  It  was  '  Ku- 
kluxism'  of  the  most  inexcusable,  because  unprovoked, 
nature.  Not  a  man  in  Virginia  had  ever  harmed  John 
Brown,  or  had  had  any  transaction  with  him.  If  he  had  suc- 
ceeded as  he  wished,  he  would  not  only  have  inaugurated 
massacres,  but  he  would  have  robbed  them  of  millions  of 
dollars  worth  of  property  invested  under  the  constitutional 
guarantees  of  the  United  States. 

'"We  need  no  better  witness  to  attest  this  than  Abraham 
Lincoln,  who  'expressed  himself  as  follows  :  '  Much  is  said 
by  Southern  people  about  the  affection  of  slaves  for  their 
masters  and  mistresses,  and  a  part  of  it,  at  least,  is  true.  A 
plot  for  an  uprising  could  scarcely  be  devised  and  communi- 
cated to  twentv  individuals  before  some  one  of  them,  to  save 
the  life  of  a  favorite  master  or  mistress,  would  divulge  it. 
John  Brown's  effort  was  peculiar.  It  was  not  a  slave  insur- 
rection. It  was  an  attempt  by  white  men  to  get  up  a  revolt 
among  slaves,  in  which  the  slaves  refused  to  participate. 
That  affair,  in  its  philosophy,  corresponds  with  many  at- 
tempts related  in  history  of  the  assassination  of  kings  and 
emperors.' 

"  Thus  did  Abraham  Lincoln  express  his  opinion  a  few 
months  after  the  execution  of  John  Brown  and  onlv  three 
years  before  the  war. 


ETOWAH.  365 

"  This  lengthy  notice  of  the  career  of  John  Brown  is  due  to 
its  similarity  to  that  of  George  Washburn,  who  was  recently 
slain  in  this  city.  The  only  practical  difference  is  as  to  the 
methods  of  execution.  The  State  of  Virginia  hung  John 
Brown  by  due  j^rocess  of  law,  while  here,  in  the  absence  of 
any  civil  tribunals  and  of  any  State  government,  an  unknown 
mob  seems  to  have  taken  the  law  in  their  own  hands. 

"  Meanwhile  this  Ku-klux  leader  of  1851,  was  lauded  to  the 
skies  by  those  who  are  so  clamorous  now  for  the  punishment 
of  men  who  execute  the  unwritten  law  that  unscrupulous 
agitators,  who  persist  in  inciting  thousands  of  ignorant  and 
suddenly  emancipated  slaves  to  insurrection,  murder  and 
arson,  must  suffer  death  or  leave  the  State. 

•'  There  is  nothing  in  this  unwritten  law  which  partook  of 
cynicism  or  stoicism ;  neither  does  it  resemble  modern  puri- 
tanism,  whose  disciples  are  too  often  intellectual  sophists, 
powerful  to  destroy  rather  than  build  up.  It  is  the  very 
reverse  of  the  theories  of  those  cynics,  ancient  and  modern, 
who  oppose  patriotism  and  family,  and  define  virtue  as  the 
strength  to  endure  privations  rather  than  the  conservator 
of  social  relations 

"  In  old  countries,  where  cante  rules,  and  in  great  and  popu- 
lous cities  peopled  chiefly  by  Anglo-Saxons,  such  an  'un- 
written law'  would  be  barbarism  if  enforced.  Whether 
barbarous  or  not,  it  is  apt  to  prevail  in  a  new  country,  peo- 
pled in  almost  equal  numbers  by  white  masters  with  aliuost 
feudal  power,  and  negro  slaves  who  have  been  elevated  by 
slavery,  when  war  suddenly  emancipates  them  from  all  re- 
straint. And  it  is  as  legitimate  for  an  editor  to  criticise 
thus,  the  murder  of  George  Washburn,  as  it  was  for  Emer- 
son to  write  of  John  Brown  as  'a  new  saint,  waiting  yet  his 


366  ETOWAH. 

martyrdom,  and  who,  if  he  shall  suffer,  will  make  the  gal- 
lows glorious  like  the  cross.' 

"  Or  Thoreau  :  '  Some  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  Christ 
was  crucified ;  this  morning,  perchance,  Captain  John  Brown 
was  hung.' 

"  Or  Theodore  Parker :  '  The  road  to  heaven  is  as  short 
from  the  gallows  as  from  the  throne.' 

"  Yet  '  Captain'  John  Brown  was  executed  by  the  sover- 
eign State  of  Virginia,  and  Abraham  Lincoln  endorsed  his 
execution,  and  stated  that  'Orsini's  attempt  on  the  life  of 
Louis  Napoleon  and  John  Brown's  attempt  at  Harper's 
Ferry  were,  in  their  philosophy,  precisely  the  same.' 

"  Where  civil  law  prevails,  such  summary  proceedings  are 
at  war  with  civilization ;  but  the  safety  and  honor  of  our 
families  are  at  stake,  and  we  have  no  State  government  and 
no  legal  tribunals  to  appeal  to." 

Latane  wrote  this  criticism  of  the  killing  of  Washburn 
with  a  full  knowledge  and  appreciation  of  the  gravity  of 
the  situation  and  the  penalty  that  might  result  from  the 
exercise  of  free  speech  in  a  time  of  anarchy.  The  Legisla- 
ture of  the  State,  under  military  rule,  resembled  the  status 
of  Russian  Chinovniks;  the  agents  of  the  Freedmen's  Bu- 
reau, like  the  Russian  IspravnikSj  exercised  the  power  of 
autocrats ;  and  no  Russian  StanavoiSj  or  UriadnikSj  ever  acted 
with  more  despotic  disregard  of  human  rights  than  did  the 
United  States  Government  detectives  in  making  arbitrary 
and  unjustifiable  arrests.  The  people  were  determined,  how- 
ever, that  their  social  life,  at  least,  should  not  be  regulated 
by  Chinovniks,  or  officers  appointed  to  administer  and 
execute  the  laws  who  were  often  too  ignorant  to  distinguish 
civil  from  criminal  law. 


ETOWAH.  367 

Overtures  had  been  made  to  Latane  by  which  an  ample 
fortune  was  assured  to  him  if  he  would  turn  traitor  to  the 
rights  and  interests  of  the  people  among  whom  he  had  lived, 
and  by  whom  he  was  trusted  and  respected  as  few  young 
men  in  the  community  were ;  and  he  asked  himself :  ''  What 
are  the  duties  and  what  is  the  function  of  an  editor? 

"  Is  it  to  make  his  paper  the  organ  of  some  corrupt,  un- 
scrupulous politician  ? 

"  Is  it  merely  to  act  as  his  literary  fugleman,  and  to  sup- 
press one's  own  manliness  by  yielding  deference  and  obe- 
dience to  a  patron  ? 

"  Is  it  to  make  money  and  political  office  the  goal  of  one's 
ambition,  and  to  sell  one's  principles  and  sense  of  honor  and 
self-respect  by  prostituting  the  editorial  columns  to  attain 
them? 

"  Is  it  to  be  a  contemptible  '  boot-lick  ?'  " 

To  all  of  these  self-inquiries  he  answered  in  the  negative, 
and  the  result  was  an  independent  expression  of  honest  con- 
victions that  made  his  paper  the  true  exponent  of  the  feel- 
ings, desires  and  aspirations  of  the  people. 

Self-preservation,  rather  than  any  political  platform,  made 
the  people  stand  as  a  unit  politically,  for  all  political  ideas 
had  been  whelmed  in  the  one  thought  of  preserving  the  civ- 
ilization to  which  they  had  attained,  without  retrograding 
toward  the  semi-barbarism  of  the  newly-emancipated  slaves, 
who  were  being  solidified  by  aliens  and  "  scallawags  "  in  that 
political  party  of  which  the  paper  controlled  by  Mr.  Worthy 
Graball  was  the  exponent. 


CHAPTER  XXXITI. 

THE    ARREST. 

The  day  after  the  publication  of  his  criticism  of  the 
tragedy  in  which  George  Washburn  lost  his  life,  as  Latane 
was  in  the  act  of  entering  his  office,  a  sergeant  confronted, 
him  with  the  announcement:  "Captain  Latane,  I  regret  to 
state  that  you  are  my  prisoner;  I  am  ordered  to  arrest  you." 

"Indeed!"  said  Latane,  with  ill  concealed  indignation. 
"  By  whose  authority  is  this  outrage  committed  ?  " 

"  Here  are  my  orders,  sir.  I  know  I  regret  it  exceedingly, 
but  I' have  to  obey  orders." 

"Oh,  I  don't  blame  you,"  said  Latane;  "  I  know  a  soldier 
must  obey  orders."  He  then  read  the  order,  signed,  not  by 
the  post-commander,  but  by  John  Hefflin. 

"  The  scoundrel !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  the  robber  of  dead 
men  on  the  battle-field,  and  the  cowardly  renegade,  shall  an- 
swer for  this.  He  was  a  Confederate  deserter,  as  I  happen 
to  know." 

"  No  insults  and  slanders,  young  man.  To  have  to  wear 
these  here  iron  bracelets  is  bad  enough  for  a  young  assassin 
like  you.  An  action  at  law  for  damages  against  my  charac- 
ter is  in  order  afterwards;  but  'twon't  hardly  be  necessary, 
for  you'll  be  strung  up  by  the  hangman's  rope  as  sure  as 
my  name  is — " 

"Jonathan  Ray!"  interrupted  Latane.  "You  infamous 
scoundrel!  I  know  your  history,  and  in  due  time  will  re- 
late it." 

"  That's  not  my  name,"  coolly  said  the  detective. 


ETOWAH.  3g9 

''  You  gave  it  as  your  name  when  Hugh  Leslie  caught  you 
in  the  act  of  robbing  a  dying  soldier,  Major  Tom  Moyer,  at 
Manassas.  You  were  dressed  as  a  Confederate  soldier  then, 
as  you  dishonor  the  Federal  uniform  now." 

Hefflin,  dressed  in  costly  uniform,  and  assuming  a  cynical 
smile,  stood  with  one  foot  upon  one  of  the  elegant  chairs  and 
surveyed  the  young  man  coolly  from  head  to  foot.  Striking 
a  match  on  the  sole  of  his  boot,  he  proceeded  to  light  a  cigar 
which  he  took  from  a  cigar-case  which  he  saw  lying  on  the 
table,  and  glanced  around  as  if  he  meant  to  take  posses- 
sion of  the  premises,  press,  cases  and  all.  Then  he  said, 
slowly  snd  distinctly:  ''What  you  have  said  is  a  lie!"  blow 
ing  forth  a  cloud  of  smoke  from  the  fragrant  Habana  as  he 
did  so,  and  trying  to  puflf  the  smoke  into  Latane's  face. 

Before  the  smoke  had  cleared  away  Hefflin  was  prostrate 
upon  the  floor,  felled  by  one  blow  from  the  stalwart  young 
man,  whose  boot  was  on  his  neck. 

Though  the  blood  was  flowing  from  his  nose,  and  he  suf- 
fered great  pain,  Hefflin  said  : 

"  Clap  'em  on,  sergeant;  we'll  put  him  in  irons." 

Latane  realized  his  position  in  a  moment,  and  by  a  pow- 
erful efibrt  of  will  said  to  the  soldier :  "  Sergeant,  I  yield  to 
you." 

In  a  moment  the  ominous  click  of  the  hand-cuffs  sounded, 
and  Henry  Latane  found  himself  a  prisoner.  Without  war- 
rant, or  trial,  or  the  semblance  of  justice,  he  walked  forth 
from  his  own  house,  chained  like  a  criminal,  and  as  innocent 
in  thought  and  deed  of  the  crime  with  which  he  was  charged 
as  a  new-born  babe ! 

The  soldiers,  under  the  command  of  the  sergeant,  bore 
Hefflin  to  the  outer  air.     Revenge,  malice,  cruelty,  heartless- 

•     24 


370,  ETOWAH. 

ness  and  murderous  wrath  darkened  his  face  as  he  shook  his 
clenched  fists  at  the  manacled  prisoner,  thus  borne  like  a 
convicted  felon  through  his  native  town  and  lodged  with 
others  in  the  barracks  prison. 

Latane  did  not  deign  to  notice  him,  but  as  he  passed  by,  the 
sinister  countenance  of  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  smiled 
with  gloating  satisfaction,  as  he  saw  this  scion  of  an  illustri- 
ous family  borne  thus  to  prison. 

''  Dog,  am  I?"  said  Potts  as  he  passed  by ;  and  Latane,  re- 
calling a  long-forgotten  incident— his  criticism  of  the  char- 
acter, or  want  of  character,  of  Potts,  said  with  emphasis : 

^'  Yes;  a  contemptible,  cowardly  hound !" 

In  his  prison  cell  he  reflected  upon  the  results  of  this  as- 
sassination, for,  whatever  the  attending  or  extenuating  cir- 
cumstances might  be,  when  a  score  of  men  attack  a  single 
man,  it  can  be  called  nothing  else.  It  seemed  revolting  to 
him,  but  how  could  he  prove  his  innocence?  No  charges 
had  been  preferred-  Many  had  been  arrested,  and  they  were 
confined  in  separate  cells.  No  communication  with  friends 
or  counsel  was  allowed  them ;  and  it  was  known  that  cir- 
cumstantial evidence  had  been  deemed  sufficient  to  condemn 
to  death  those  who  were  charged  with  being  the  accomplices 
of  Booth  in  the  assassination  of  President  Lincoln.  Latane 
was  therefore  very  agreeably  surprised  to  read  in  the  Radical 
p  iper,  owned  by  Worthy  Graball,  the  following  editorial, 
which  seemed  to  be  inspired  by  personal  regard  for  him 
rather  than  fealty  to  his  party  : 

"  We  are  absolutely  ignorant  concerning  the  foul  murder 
of  Mr.  Washburn,  and  we  have  no  idea  who  any  of  the  as- 
sassins are,  but  we  feel  perfectly  assured  that  Captain  Latane 
at  least  is  entirely  innocent.  He  is  incapable  of  assassina- 
tion, or  of  doing  any  disreputable  act,  or  of  hiding  his  ac- 


ETOWAH.  371 

lions  by  the  darkness  of  night.  Whether  this  be  a  vendetta 
or  a  political  murder,  he  is  certainly  innocent,  and  we  say  to 
the  government  that  the  atrocities  perpetrated  upon  free- 
born  citizens  in  District  III.  are  equal  to  those  which  Pope 
Gregory  IX.  authorized  to  be  visited  upon  prisoners  under 
form  of  the  Inquisition.  Gregory  thought  his  bishops  too 
indulgent,  and  gave  to  'the  Dominicans  the  direction  of  the 
Inquisition.  The  government  concludes  that  its  soldiery  is 
too  indulgent,  and  to  a  set  of  spies  and  detectives  transfers 
the  offices  of  infamy  and  the  responsibility  of  torture." 

Latane  thought  for  a  long  time  of  this  editorial.  What  did 
it  mean  ?  Was  it  inspired  by  Potts?  No,  for  he  was  certainly 
leagued  with  Hefflin  and  Washburn.  Was  it  inspired  by  the 
prosecuting  attorney,  wh  ose  creature  Graball  had  been  ?  If  so, 
he  certainly  did  not  wish  to  see  the  prisoners  executed.  Was 
it  the  Ku-klux  Klan  which  had  slain  Washburn  ?  Or  was 
it  the  retribution  visited  upon  the  murderer  of  harmless, 
kindly,  brave  old  Barney  ?  Latane's  reflections  took  a  som- 
bre hue  as  his  thoughts  reverted  to  his  own  prison  experi- 
ence at  Johnson's  Island.- 

Thus  his  note-book  described  life  in  that  Federal  prison  : 
"  The  rations  for  two  hundred  men  are  boiled  in  one  kettle, 
which  will  contain  only  sixty  gallons.  The  ration  to  each 
prisoner  is  one-third  of  a  pound  of  bread  and  a  piece  of  meat 
two  inches  square ;  but  we  have  been  notified  that  this  'low- 
ance,'  as  the  darkies  say,  is  to  be  diminished.  Can  the  reports 
of  the  cruel  treatment  of  the  Federal  prisoners  at  Anderson- 
ville  be  true?  We  do  not  believe  them,  but  we  are  to  suffer 
for  them.  Lex  talionis  by  starvation  !  Never  mind  !  we  a;-e 
making  history. 

"Everybody  is  suffering  from — the  itch.  I  am  constantly 
reminded  of  a  celehTa^ted'chef  d^oeuvrehj  one  of  the  'Old  Mas- 


372  ETOWAH. 

ters,'  which  is  at  the  Louvre  in  Paris.  It  is  called  '  The 
Beggar  Boy,'  and  reminds  one  of  the  legal  aphorism,  '  Sue 
a  beggar  and  catch  a  louse.' 

Pardon,  mes  camarades ;  the  same  animal,  vicarious  may 
be,  that  entertains  us  here  would  shame  his  Parisian  proto- 
type. It  is  the  only  successful  rival  of  Captain  Stonable's 
'Morgan.'  If  '  cleanliness  is  next  to  godliness' — and  where 
cleanliness  is  these  little  beasts  are  not — small  chances  have 
we,  poor,  shivering  mortals,  for  a  successful  entrance  into  the 
other  world. 

Many  of  us  are  going  there,  for  the  winter  is  still  terribly 
cold.  Poor  fellows  without  shoes  or  blankets  huddle  around 
the  stoves  at  night  and  try  to  sleep.  A  prisoner,  taken  from 
mv  barrack  because  his  feet  had  become  so  swollen,  died  to- 
day  ;  mortification  had  ensued. 

Our  barracks  are  each  100  feet  long  by  22  feet  wide,  and 
contain  three  tiers  of  bunks,  platforms  of  rough  plank  for 
sleeping,  somewhat  like  the  'Bagne'  at  Toulon,  France, 
where  the  galley-slaves  are  chained  like  wild  beasts,  and 
where  each  man's  name  is  a  number,  like  1776 — for  example ! 

Yesterday  was  the  coldest  day  we  have  had.  The  hydrants 
were  frozen  up,  and  the  men  had  eaten  all  the  snow 
within  the  prison.  The  poor  fellows  would  lie  down  as  close 
to  the  'dead-line'  as  possible  and  reach  their  arms  through 
to  pull  the  snow  to  them. 

I  saw  one  of  the  guards,  standing  twenty-five  steps  from  a 
prisoner  thus  engaged,  shoot  at  him  three  times.  Fortunate- 
ly the  police-guards  are  armed  with  revolvers ;  had  it  been  a 
rifle  that  the  guard  had,  the  prisoner  would  have  died  at  the 
first  fire.  As  it  was,  he  was  not  struck,  and  I  could  not  help 
from  thinking  that  the  police-guard  had  fired  wildly  pur- 
posely.    The  prisoners  had  been  captured  the  week  before, 


ETOWAH.  373 

had  just  arrived,  and  were  nearly  famished  for  water.  Like 
the  unfortunates  whose  thirst  is  recorded  in  the  'Ancient 
Mariner,'  they  exclaimed  :  'Water,  water  everywhere,  nor  any 
drop  to  drink!' 

Have  you  ever  been  thus  thirsty  ?  Have  you  ever  been 
on  the  Alkali  plains  and  become  so  crazed  with  thirst  that 
ever  before  you,  in  the  clear  atmosphere,  were  the  snow-clad 
peaks  which  seemed  but  a  few  miles  distant  ? 

You  toil  on,  and  toil  on ;  you  know  that  if  you  can  reach 
that  mountain  and  can  scale  its  cliffs — pass  the  dead-line — 
that  snow  means  life !  life  a  thousand  times  sweeter  because 
of  the  near  approach  of  the  gaunt  pursuer,  Death  ! 

Had  you  a  kingdom,  you  would  exchange  it,  like  Dives 
appealing  to  Lazarus,  for 'one  drop  of  water!'  to  quench 'the 
parched  and  burning  tongue.  Those  mountains,  seemingly  so 
near,  contai  ning  the  elixir  of  life,  are  hundred  of  miles  dis- 
tant !  The  snow,  lying  there  almost  within  reach  of  these 
poor  prisoners  famished  for  water,  suffering  tvith  thirst,  spreads 
its  beautiful  crvstals  over  the  broad  bosom  of  the  earth,  each 
drop  of  snow  a  perfect  star  in  form  to  lead  them  to  safety, 
like  the  star  of  Bethlehem !  Covering  every  hill  and  dale 
with  its  mantle,  making  each  tiny  twig  on  the  great  trees 
resplendent  with  jewels  in  the  bright  sunlight,  and  yet  the 
words  ^noli  me  tangere  !'  rise  like  a  ghoul  before  them.  Life 
within  reach ;  death  the  penalty  for  reaching  after  life  ! 

Delirium  seizes  him  who,  reckless  of  life  that  is  a  living 
death,  siezes  with  both  hands  the  life-giving  snow  and,  with 
the  exultant  laugh  of  a  maniac,  gulps  it  down,  just  as  the  bul- 
let crashes  through  his  brain ! 

To-day  is  Sunday. 

I  hear  the  church-bells  with  Sabbath  chimes  calling  Chris- 
tians to  worship  in  the  neighboring  town,  Davenport,  Iowa. 


374  ETOWAH. 

I  have  tasted  no  food  to-day.  Great  God !  men  nearly  naked 
and  bare-headed  and  bare-footed,  with  no  bed-clothes,  are 
exposed  to  ceaseless  torture  from  the  chilly  and  pitiless  winds 
of  the  upper  Mississippi,  in  a  climate  where  well-clothed  sen- 
tinels are  relieved  at  short  intervals  to  prevent  their  freezing. 
These  men  are  dying  rapidly  every  day,  and  not  so  much 
from  cold  as  from  starvation !  Can  such  be  the  condition  of 
prisoners  at  Andersonville?  I  hear  the  church-bells.  I  am 
very  hungr^^  I  have  eagerl}^  watched  the  great  gate  of  the 
prison  all  day,  hoping  to  see  the  bread- wagon.  The  church- 
bells  seem  a  mockery.'' 

That  was  all  this  note-book  contained.  How  gladly  would 
he  have  exchanged  his  present  situation  for  that  thus  graphic- 
ally described  ! 

Meanwhile,  a  prominent  lawyer  was  at  once  employed  by 
Colonel  Leslie,  who  addressed  the  following  letter  without 
delay  to  the  Judge- Advotate  : 

''Etowah,  April  7th. 

''  Dear  Sir — I  represent  Mr.  Ripley,  Messrs.  William  and 
Columbus  Hidell,  General  Stewart,  Mr.  T.  W.  Grieve,  Doc- 
tor Kirk,  and  some  others  who  have  been  arrested,  they  know 
not  upon  what  charge,  but  suppose  that  information  may 
have  been  given  at  headquarters  charging  them  with  ,om- 
plicity  in  the  brutal,  and  for  our  town,  unfortunate  assassina- 
tion of  George  Washburn. 

"In  this,  as  in  all  cases  of  gross  ortrage,  the  innocent  are 
apt  to  suffer  for  the  wrongs  of  the  guilty.  The  gentlemen 
whom  I  have  named  are  above  suspicion  as  being  in  any  way 
connected  with  the  transaction ;  several  of  them  are  men  of 
family,  and  if  public  justice  can  be  satisfied,  as  I  trust  it  can, 
by  an  examination  here  without  taking  them  from  their  fami- 
lies, it  is  very  desirable  that  it  should  be  done.  An  exami- 
nation, I  am  sure,  would  acquit  any  of  them  of  any  partici- 
pation in  assassination. 

"They  can  give  any  bond  that  may  be  required  for  their 


ETOWAH.  375 

appearance,  and  if  you  can  influence  this  matter.  I  hope  you 
will  consider  it  advisable  to  allow  these  gentlemen  to  be 
bailed  until  such  time  as  their  appearance  may  be  required. 

''Your  obedient  servant, 

^  R.  J.  Morrow." 

^^To  General  William  Baf<^^  Judge  Advocate-General.'''' 

To  this  letter  the  following  answer  was  made  : 

"Headquarters  Third  Military  District, 
Office  of  Judge-Advocate,  April  9th. 

"Tkfr.  R.  J.  Morrow^  Etoivah,  Ga: 
"Dear   Sir — Yours   of  the  7th    inst.    was   received   this 
morning. 

"I  am  directed  by  the  General  commanding  to  reply  that 
he  does  not  deem  it  advisable  to  interfere  with  the  action 
of  Captain  Hefflin.  While  there  is  a  determination  here 
that  the  parties  who  murdered  Mr.  Washburn  shall,  if  possi- 
ble, be  arrested  and  punished,  it  is  hoped  that  this  may  be 
accomplished  without  any  serious  inconvenience  to  the  inno- 
cent. "Your  obedient  servant, 

"William  Bass." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE    CARNIVAL. 

*"0  Veiieziaf  0  reina  gloriosa  del  Adriatica/  tu  sei  il  sor- 
riso  del  mondo  r^ 

Thus  Venice,  thus  New  Orleans  during  the  carnival.  The 
whole  city  was  in  a  frenzy  of  delight.  People  came  from  all 
parts  of  the  United  States,  from  Mexico,  from  the  West  In- 
dies, from  South  America,  to  witness  this  magnificent  spec- 
tacle in  the  Crescent  City,  the  Paris  of  America. 

There  is  no  other  city  like  New  Orleans.  Its  French  pop- 
ulation are  Creoles,  many  of  whom  attain  old  age  without 
having  acquaintances  in  the  English-speaking  quarters  of 
the  city.  More  exclusive  than  the  aristocratic  legitimists  of 
the  Faubourg,  St.  Germain,  in  Paris,  they  look  down  upon 
those  who  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  born  ^^dVautre  cote^'' 
as  inferior  beings.  "See  Naples  and  die,"  they  improve  upon 
by  adding  "see  New  Orleans  and  live !"  New  Orleans  to  them 
was  the  "  French  Quarter,"  and  the  carnival  ruled  there  in 
all  of  its  glory.  "C'etait  une  folle  melee  d'inquisiteurs, 
de  pretres,  de  polichinelles,  et  de  cicisbei  qui  mangeaient, 
buvaient,  riaient,  dansaient  a  perdre  haleine." 

A  joyous  masquerade  of  life  to  the  sound  of  little  bells,  and 
tambourines,  and  flutes,  accompanied  by  such  perfect  whist- 
ling of  the  human  voice  "as  never  was  heard  before,"  to  use 
their  enthusiastic  words.  New  Orleans  was  a  city  of  specta- 
cles, of  beautiful  women  and  lovely  girls,  whose  cheeks  of  red 

■""  "Oh,  Venice!  oh,  glorious  queen  of  the  Adriatic!  thou  art  the  smile  of  the 
world!" 


ETOWAH.  377 

and  hair  of  night  falling  over  exquisite  shoulders  and  busts, 
riveted  the  eye  of  the  beholder,  which  looked  and  saw  again 
and  was  never  sated  as  the  procession  went  by,  while  the 
lovely  girls  scattered  flowers  from  the  flower  wagons.  New 
Orleans  was  a  city  of  joy  and  voluptuous  pleasures,  and 
seemed  on  that  day  to  be  some  enchanted  isle,  apart  from  the 
busy  world,  a  place  where  one  could  spend  his  gold  and  lose 
his  reason  "to  heart's  content !" 

Great  crowds  thronged  the  levees  of  the  Mississippi,  the 
father  of  American  waters,  and  watched  a  beautiful  vessel 
with  sails  full-set  bearing  away  before  the  wind  and  garlanded 
with  flowers.  Those  flowers  were  lovely  girls.  Now,  down 
the  spacious  Boulevard  comes  a  vessel  which  seems  a  fac 
simile  of  the  first,  and  the  thousands  who  had  witnessed  the 
first  rush  forward  to  see  the  second.  The  sails  are  made  of 
silk ;  the  vessel  is  an  Argosy  freighted  with  rarest  perfumes 
of  the  Orient  and  sweetest   flowers  of  the  South. 

They  danced  even  in  the  convents  as  the  vessel  went  by, 
and,  for  once,  the  convents  seemed  elegant  sanctuaries  for  vo- 
luptuous fancy  rather  than  the  performance  of  ascetic 
penances. 

The  vessel  sails  down  the  Canalazzo  (Canal  street),  which 
is  wide  as  a  Parisian  Boulevard,  and  winding  as  an  inverted 
S,  while  the  labyrinth  of  streets  opening  into  it  is  thronged 
with  delighted  observers.  The  great  cathedral  forms  a  brill- 
iant combination  of  the  Gothic  and  Oriental  style  of  archi- 
tecture. Following  the  ship  came  2,000  gondolas  of  Venice, 
representing  the  varied  flora  and  plants  of  the  earth.  The 
gondoliers  were  dressed  with  exquisite  taste,  the  floral  deco- 
rations and  picturesque  costumes  being  selected  from  differ- 
ent centuries^ 

Their  dress  was  as  the  brimming  foam   to  the  sparkling 


378  ETOWAH. 

champagne;  the  fragrance  to  the  flower;  an  indefinite  hint 
of  costumes  long  passed  out  of  date,  from  which  only  the 
picturesque  features  had  been  taken  and  carefully  combined 
with  others  equally  charming.  Thus  the  joyous  phases  of 
different  epochs  were  blended  on  that  day  of  days.  The 
his^hest  mast  of  the  flower-ship  represented  the  famous  Cam- 
panile, to  which  the  ascent  was  made  by  an  inclined  plane, 
wiiere  girls  represented  flowers.  The  vessel  sailed  to  the 
cathedral,  which  represented  the  Church  of  San  Marco,  and 
there  the  lovely  crew,  led  by  King  Victor  Emanuel,  were 
received  by  the  Patriarch  of  Venice  with  an  imposing  retinue. 

This  represented  the  triumphal  entry  of  the  King  of  Italy 
into  Venice  in  that  year.  His  majesty  entered  the  church, 
followed  by  his  ministers  and  court.  A  grand  Te  Deum  was 
feung — the  Patriarch  assisting  at  the  ceremony.  On  that 
carnival  day  government  had  fallen  into  powder,  and  yet 
there  was  no  rioting  or  drunken  disorder;  the  laws  were  ig- 
nored, religion  without  force,  cripies  paralyzed  b}'  over- 
whelming good  nature,  life  a  buffoonery,  "  the  confessional  a 
court  of  love,"  the  church  a  spectacle,  and  hilarity  reigned 
supreme.  In  the  joy  of  the  populace  at  witnessing  this  rep- 
resentation of  the  expulsion  of  the  Austrians  from  Lombardy, 
as  instanced  by  the  triumphal  entry  of  King  Victor  Eman- 
uel into  Venice,  and  his  reception  at  the  Church  of  San 
Marco,  one  saw  how  they  would  have  welcomed  the  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Federals  from  the  Crescent  City  in  war  days. 
Among  the  sea  of  faces  turned  to  witness  this  pageant  was 
one  whose  patrician  countenance  was  marred  by  a  tinge  of 
sadness. 

As  Julia  Ddaring  looked  from  the  balcony  of  Mrs.  La- 
Grange's  palatial  residence  and  saw  the  populace  sway  to  and 
fro  until  a  shout  went  up  that  shook  the  air  of :  "Vive  Beau- 


^  ETOWAH.  379 

regard!  Vive  le  grand  General!"  she  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands  and  retired  for  a  few  moments  overwhelmed  with  grief. 
She  echoed  that  cry  with  all  the  earnest  fervor  of  her  patri- 
otic nature,  and  felt  a  grand  exultation  as  she  involuntarily 
exclaimed : 

''Yes  !  long  live  our  noble  soldiers !" 

Then  the  revulsion  came  like  a  great  gust,  as  thought  ot 
the  stormy  past  borne  on  the  wings  of  memory  passed  like 
lightning  through  her  brain.  And  then,  recalling  her  pres- 
ent position,  she  resumed  her  place  on  the  balcony  and 
calmly  looked  at  the  multitude  passing  by.  In  the  midst  of 
this  round  of  spectacular  follies,  she  alone  seemed  to  be  able 
to  enjoy  without  being  frantic  and  to  feel  a  sympathy  wide 
as  the  human  race  and  far  reaching  as  poverty  itself. 

Thus  were  her  thoughts  as  Emile  LaGrange,  dressed  in  cos- 
tume suited  to  the  day  and  occasion,  stepped  upon  the  bal- 
cony from  the  great  parlor-window  and  said  : 

''Miss  Julia,  I  have  left  my  place  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life  on  Carnival  day — even  mother  did  not  know  me  as  I 
entered  the  house.  I  saw  you  here  looking  so  superbly  lovely 
that  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  come  up;  I  wish 
you  to  go  with  me  to  the  masquerade  to-night.  The  Opera 
House  will  represent  La  Fenice  of  Venice,  and  the  ball  will 
be  the  most  brilliant  ever  known.  Will  you  go  with  me? 
Do  not  refuse.  I  will  be  so  proud  of  you  that  I  will  make 
all  the  fellows  envious,  for  I  swear  to  you,  you  are  the  most 
beautiful  girl  in  New  Orleans.     Please  go!" 

This  speech  was  uttered  with  Creole  vivacity,  including  all 
the  orthodox  French  shrugs  and  gestures ;  and  Julia  would 
have  declined  peremptorily,  but  for  the  pleading  look  and 
tone  of  the  last  sentence.  Evidently  nothing  that  she  could 
do  could  persuade  him  that  he  was  not  hopelessly  in  love. 


380  ETOWAH. 

"Mr.  LaGrange,  I  would  go  with  you  with  pleasure,  if  I 
were  going  ia  so.dety  at  all,  but  you  forget  that  I  am  in 
mourning.  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  without  being  offended 
with  me;  besides,  I  have  never  been  to  a  masquerade  ball  in 
my  life." 

''  Miss  Julia,  you  are  not  a  Chinese  girl  to  wear  sackcloth 
and  ashes  two  years;  tw-)  months  is  long  enough,  unless 
Lent  happens  to  come  along  in  time  to  make  it  forty  days 
more." 

"Mr.  LaGrange!  If  you  have  no  respect  for  my  fathei's 
memory,  you  have  none  for  me — I  cannot  go." 

Julia  said  this  with  a  look  and  tone  not  to  be  misunder- 
stood. No  duchess  could  look  more  imperious,  or  speak 
with  greater  decision  than  she  did  then. 

"  Miss  Julia,  forgive  me — you  know  I  would  not  say  any- 
thing to  wound  your  ieelings.  You  know  that  I  worship 
tiie  very  sound  of  your  voice.  Don't  speak  to  me  that  way — 
I'll  do  anything  on  earth  for  you,  and  you  know  it !  If  you 
don't  go,  I  won't !" 

The  effeminate  youth  said  this  with  an  injured  tone  and 
manner,  as  if  his  refusal  to  attend  the  carnival  ball  would 
make  Julia  miserable.  She  was  about  to  reply  to  him  in  a 
soothing  manner,  for  she  liked  the  young  man  as  she  would 
a  spoiled  child  who  was  attached  to  her,  when  Mrs.  LaGrange 
entered  and  exclaimed  indignantly  : 

"Emile,  I  am  ashamed  of  you !  would  you  disgrace  me, 
right  here  before  all  the  world,  by  addressing  such  language 
to  a  governess?     A  woman  who  teaches  your  sisters!" 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  would  go  to  hell  on  her  account,  if  I  did 
not  know  that  I  would  not  find  her  there !  She  is  good  and 
sweet  and  beautiful  enough  to  be  an  angel,  and  much  too 
good  for  you  or  me !     If  you  say  another  word  against  her 


ETOWAH.  381 

in  my  presence,  I  will  leave  this  house  and  home  and  kick 
the  dust  off  my  feet'/' 

Julia,  her  cheeks  crimson  with  mortification,  had  hastily 
retired,  but,  thinking  that  this  would  create  the  impression 
that  she  had  encouraged  the  young  gentleman  to  make  this 
avowal,  she  quickly  returned. 

Mrs.  LaGrange  was  never  equal  to  a  contest  v^ith  her  "darl- 
ing Emile."  as  she  called  him,  and  on  this  occasion  she  sank 
hysterically  in  a  chair  and  said,  "I  wish  I  was  dead!" 

"Mrs.  LaGrange,"  said  Julia  in  a  voice  that  was  singu- 
larly calm  and  sweet  in  its  intonation,  "I  think  I  had  best 
leave  your  service  now  ;  I  am  sure  I  regret  this  avowal  upon 
the  part  of  your  son,  who,  I  know  will  forget  it  in  a  few  days 
and  laugh  at  his  self-deception  as  much  as  you  can  possibly 
regret  it.  I  will  go  to  my  room  and  pack  my  trunk  at  once, 
and  will  be  ready  to  leave  to-morrow  morning,  or  earlier,  if 
necessarv." 

Mrs.  LaGrange's  sobs  grew  more  violent  as  she  said  discon- 
nectedly, "And  you  are  going  to  leave  me,  too  !  Not  con- 
tent with  robbing  me  of  my  son's  affections,  you  mean  to 
encourage  him  to  leave  me  by  going  away,  and  who  knows 
what  will  happen  then  ?"  and  the  mother's  grief  seemed 
inconsolable.     Emile  had  left  the  house  in  a  passion. 

"Mrs.  LaGrange,  I  know  what  will  not  happen,"  said 
Julia,  stung  to  anger  by  the  repeated  and  unjust  insinuation  ; 
"your  son  will  never  cause  you  any  more  trouble  on  my 
account,  for  if  he  was  the  last  man  on  earth,  I  would  not 
marry  him !  " 

The  instinct  of  offended  dignity  made  Julia's  manner  and 
voice  seem  imperious  which  dictated  conditions,  rather  than 
the  anger  of  a  woman  utterly  dependent  upon  the  precarious 
pursuit  of  a  governess  for   her  support.     The  selfish  egotism 


382  ETOWAH. 

of  a  woman  of  the  v\^orld,  who  prized  nothing  so  much  as 
social  distinction,  based  on  wealth,  impelled  Mrs.  LaGrange 
to  look  up  with  wonderment  and  ill  concealed  vexation.  It 
was  true  that  Julia  had  already  told  her  that  Emile  had  de- 
clared  his  afiection  for  her,  but  she  had  hoped  the  passion 
was  temporary  and  would  disappear  with  many  that  had 
preceded  it.  This  incident,  however,  looked  serious,  for  Mrs. 
LaGrange  had  not  heard  Julia's  refusal  to  accompany  Emile 
to  the  ball.  Evidently  Julia  had  great  expectations  of  a 
future  secured  by  other  sources  than  her  own  efforts,  or  she 
would  not  be  so  independent  and  willing  to  leave  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice.  She  determined  to  conciliate  her,  and  at  least 
gratify  her  curiosity  as  to  her  history,  for  surely  no  other 
governess  had  ever  seemed  like  Julia  Bearing,  who  seemed 
to  rise  in  stature  as  she  looked  up  at  the  superb  beauty,  whose 
thin  nostrils  and  flashing  eyes  told  her  she  wag  in  the  pres- 
ence of  one  infinitely  superior  to  herself. 

The  ceremony  over  at  the  cathedral,  the  grand  procession 
m'oved  again.  But  now  all  was  changed.  Down  the  Espla- 
nade, Rampart  and  Claiborne  streets,  and  up  Canal  street 
again  ;  past  the  temple  Sinai  of  the  Israelites  with  its  tinted 
cupolas ;  past  the  ten  public  squares  statued  with  Clay,  Jack- 
son and  other  Southern  statesmen,  while  the  eleven  thousand 
fountains  danced  their  gems  a-toss  in  the  sunlight,  rolled  the 
pageant  of  shrove  Tuesday.  Now  the  procession  illustrates 
scenes  from  classic  fable.  We  will  not  recount  the  scene 
which  passed  between  Mrs.  LaGrange,  in  which  Julia,  moved 
by  her  sympathetic  nature,  agreed  to  reconsider  he;  first  d(^ 
termination  ,to  leave  at  once,  even  if  she  had  to  sacrifice  her 
salary !  "Better  that  than  the  sacrifice  of  self-esteem/' 
thought  the  proud  girl,  as  she  left  the  parlor  and  went  to  her 
room  where  she  remained. 

The  festivities  of  the  last  hours  of  Mardi  Gras  had  lost  all 


ETOWAH.  388 

charm  for  her  now.  The  very  beauty  and  charms  of  mind 
and  person,  which  she  had  so  valued  in  more  prosperous 
days,  seemed  to  her  now  a  heritage  fatal  to  happiness.  What 
was  life  to  one  so  gifted,  so  social  in  her  tastes,  when  she 
could  not  "like"  a  gentlemen  without  being  unjustly  cen- 
sured? "Why  are  men  such  simpletons  as  to  fall  in  love 
with  a  pretty  face  or  figure  when  they  are  told,  time  after 
time,  that  you  cannot,  try  you  ever  so  much,  reciprocate 
the  attachment  ?  Men  are  all  geese,  I  do  believe !"  said 
Julia,  as  she  closed  the  book  which  she  had  tried  ineffectu- 
ally to  become  interested  in.  Then  she  thought  of  Barnum, 
and  of  his  neglect  of  her,  and  of  his  former  devotion,  and 
wondered  whether  his  conduct  would  have  been  different  if 
he  had  known  that  there  was  one  man  whom  she  "liked" 
more  than  all  others.  She  was  not  willing  yet  to  confess  to 
herself  that  she  loved  Colonel  Barnum. 

Mrs.  LaGrange,  on  the  other  hand,  was,  in  ten  minutes,  as 
much  absorbed  as  she  had  been  before  the  interview.  Her 
whole  soul  seemed  to  be  in  the  procession,  the  head  of  which 
now  approached  the  stately  mansion.  Her  eyes  danced 
with  delight  and  sundry  "oh's,"  and  gestures,  and  shrugs 
denoted  her  intense  pleasure. 

"There  were  the  horses"  said  a  journal  of  the  day  with 
tropical  extravagance,  "  with  regal  trappings,  glittering  with 
gold  and  purple — palaces  and  thrones,  and  pavilions,  and 
tableau s,  rolled  by  gods  and  goddesses,  furies  and  gorgons. 
Agamemnon  and  Jupiter,  Neptune  and  Mercury,  and  Momus 
and  the  Trojan  horse,  and  regiments  in  gleaming  mail  and 
with  shouldered  battle-axes,  until  day  and  night  dance  with 
the  jollity  and  flame  with  the  splendor  of  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  people  at  the  utmost  of  exhilaration." 

"One  great  rousing  holiday,  fifty  Fourth  of  July's  sounding 
in  one  salvo;  fifty  Christmases  twisted  into  one  garland  " 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

NOBLESSE    OBLIGE. 

The  prosecuting  attorney  saw  his  friends  falling  away 
from  him  like  leaves  dropping  before  the  cold  winds  of  win- 
ter, but  none  could  know  what  were  his  feelings  from  that 
sphinx  like  face  which  retained  its  cold,  passionless  look  in 
spite  of  the  storm  of  hate  that  seemed  eager  to  sweep  him 
away  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  He  was  greeted  like  an 
Ishmaelite.  Was  he  a  renegade  or  a  hero?  He  volunteered 
no  excuses,  and  thus  he  commanded  respect  for  courage;  he 
made  no  complaint  and  uttered  no  criticism.  Like  the 
prisoners,  he,  too,  was  on  trial— on  trial  before  that  higher 
law  which  hath  said,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself." 

The  accused  had  been  his  soldiers ! 

He  could  not  have  been  human  had  he  failed  to  sympa. 
thize  with  them,  however  equivocal  his  present  attitude  ap- 
peared. His  own  life  and  liberty  seemed  suspended  by  a 
thread  which  the  Parcae  of  fate  might  cut  in  twain.  Was 
he,  like  Danton,  to  dishonor  his  great  reputation  by  becom- 
ing j9ar^*<:eps  criminis  to  a  murder  of  innocent  men?  Under 
Danton's  rule  of  terror  the  guillotine  became  a  familiar  ob- 
ject throughout  France.  Danton  had  shed  blood  systemati- 
cally, and  not  from  cruelty.  As  soon  as  he  should  be  con- 
vinced that  terror  was  no  longer  necessary,  he  would  counsel 
moderation.  Was  this  man  acting  from  similar  motives, 
and  would  he  persist  to  the  end?  He  resembled  Mirabeau 
in  that  it  was  he   who  decided  the  revolution  which  took 


ETOWAH.  385 

this  state  out  of  the  Union.  Could  he,  like  Mirabeau,  claim 
that,  although  he  had  received  considerable  sums,  he  acted 
with  conviction,  because  he  foresaw  the  coming  catastrophe? 
Or  were  his  apologists  correct  in  asserting  that  he  had  the 
double  motive  of  desiring  to  quell  lynch-law  and  at  the 
same  time  shield  the  prisoners  ? 

Like  Robespierre,  he  affected  the  purest  patriotism,  and 
was  noted  for  his  fidelity  to  the  interests  of  his  numerous 
satellites ;  and,  like  Robespierre,  he  had  been  known  as  "  the 
incorruptible  "  when  he  stood  as  the  oracle  of  the  people. 

Now,  "  none  were  so  poor  as  to  do  him  reverence."  He 
hid  precipitated  a  war,  like  Danton;had  profited  by  ad- 
versity and  by  turning  his  back  upon  the  convictions  of  a 
lifetime,  like  Mirabeau;  and,  during  the  trying  ordeal  which 
these  prisoners  were  now  undergoing,  he  was  as  mild-man- 
nered as  a  parson,  but  apparently  acted  as  heartlessly  in  the 
cross-examination  to  which  he  subjected  the  witnesses  for 
the  defence  as  did  Richelieu  when  he  beheaded  Cinq  Mars 
and  the  young  De  Thou. 

There  was  no  ignominy  in  dying  for  one's  country  on  the 
battle-field,  but  conviction  now  meant  a  felon's  death  on  the 
scaffold.  These  men  had  been  his  soldiers,  and  had  faced 
death  in  honorable  warfare  on  a  score  of  great  battle-fields. 

As  these  thoughts  flashed  across  his  mind,  Barnum  asked 
himself:  "  Is  such  a  man  likely  to  condemn  to  death  these 
prisoners?  Is  he  using  the  Judge- Advocate,  the  military 
court,  the  detectives,  the  army  which  conquered  this  State 
and  arrested  him  as  the  most  prominent  State  prisoner  in  it, 
but  a  few  months  since — is  he  using  all  these  men  and  in- 
strumentalities as  men  of  putty  to  be  fashioned  according  to 
his   will  ? "     But   he  rejected  this  hypothesis  as    contrary 

25 


386  ETOWAH. 

to  the  ethics  of  the  legal  profession.  "For,"  he  reasoned, 
"  from  Zoroaster  to  Confucius,  or  Mahomet  to  the  Koran,  or 
Plato  to  the  Codes  of  Justinian,  or  from  Justinian  to  the  most 
recent  code  of  laws  of  modern  times,  one  will  seek  in  vain 
for  license  thus  to  prostitute  a  noble  profession." 

Such  were  Colonel  Barnum's  reflections  as  he  approached 
the  home  of  his  old  friend,  formerly  so  buoyant  and  elastic 
in  temperament,  now  bowed  down  with  anxiety  and  care. 

At  three-score  years  and  ten  how  many  of  the  friends  of 
youth  are  left?  The  circle  grows  narrower  and  narrower 
with  f  ach  succeeding  year,  and  the  aged  heart  summons  ail 
its  strength  and  devotes  it  to  the  two  or  three,  or  more  or 
less,  about  the  hearth-stone.  To  Colonel  Leslie,  life  seemed 
now  centered  on  Clara  and  Henry  Latane,  and,  by  sym- 
pathy, to  all  the  prisoners  charged  with  the  murder  of  George 
Washburn.  And  Colonel  Barnum  seemed  to  comprehend  hi& 
feelings  intuitively. 

"Noblesse  oblige!"  he  had  said  to  himself,  as  he  read  that 
startling  telegram,  which  caused  him  to  forego  the  dearest 
wish  of  his  life,  the  finding  of  Julia  Dearing  and  offering 
her  the  protection  of  his  strong  arm,  and  the  devotion  of  his 
staunch  loyal  heart  as  long  as  life  shall  last. 

"But — 'noblesse  oblige  !'  I  must  save  the  life  of  him  whose 
young  wife  saved  my  own,"  said  Barnum,  as  he  quickly 
decided  to  return  to  Etowah  at  once. 

Reader,  you  who  are  happily  married,  or  you,  who  can 
recall  the  arrival  of  a  young  father  from  the  army  who  has 
never  seen  his  first-born,  though  the  child  is  a  prattling  thing 
six  months  old,  to  whose  wondering  eyes  the  mighty  world 
grows  bigger  every  day — have  you  ever  seen  a  supremely 
happy  young  wife  suddenly  smitten  by  the  arrest  of  her 
husband,  who  is  incarcerated  in  jail,  charged  with  murder  f 


ETOWAH.  387 

If  you  have,  you  can  appreciate  Clara  Latane's  misery ;  for, 
not  only  had  Henry  Latane  been  arrested,  but  he  had  been 
borne  away  to  the  distant  capital  city,  and  tbe  summary 
trial  by  military  order  was  actually  progressing. 

At  the  earnest  entreaty  of  Henry  Latane,  his  young  wife 
and  her  father  had  returned  home,  until  the  witnesses  for 
the  defence  should  be  summoned. 

And  now,  as  Colonel  Barnum  approaches  the  stately  old 
home,  the  moss  hanging  in  festoons  from  the  old  oaks  in  the 
lawn  seemed  to  foretoken  the  gloom  which  overshadowed 
that  home. 

But,  to  his  surprise,  he  found  Colonel  Leslie  overwhelmed, 
while  Clara  seemed  calm  and  almost  serene  in  her  efforts  to 
comfort  her  aged  father.  But  her  outward  calmness  was  like 
the  quiet  of  the  waters  of  the  lake  before  the  flood-gates  are 
opened.  In  the  quiet  privacy  of  her  chamber  the  ruf^hing 
flood  of  grief  was  all  the  greater  because  seen  only  by  the 
All-seeing  eye. 

"God  !  what  a  woe  it  is !  How  can  I  bear  it?"  The  white, 
rounded  arms  are  uplifted  pleadingly;  the  beauteous,  tear- 
dimraed  face  looks  upward  in  appealing  prayer  to  the  Lord 
God  of  Hosts!  But  now  she  hears  again,  and  hearing  heeds 
the  ceaseless  step  of  the  good  old  man  who,  but  a  few  short 
month  sago,  could  not  bear  to  hear  Latane's  name  mentioned. 
And  hardly  had  she  dried  her  tears  and  assumed  a  cheerful 
manner  and  linked  her  arm  in  his,  when  Colonel  Barnum 
approached  the  mansion  at  Thronateeska. 

At  this  juncture  they  heard  a  step  on  the  veranda,  and 
turning,  saw  Colonel  Barnum,  who  advanced  to  meet  them. 
His  greeting  was  cordial,  and  his  handclasp  firm,  as  he  tlius 
sought  to  cheer  them  by  his  presence. 


388  ETOWAH. 

"You  are  very  kind  and  very  prompt,  Colonel  Barnum ; 
I  did  not  think  you  could  get  here  so  soon." 

"I  came  immediately  on  the  receipt  of  your  telegram  ;  such 
matters  admit  of  no  delay." 

"Very  true ;  walk  into  the  library." 

After  a  few  minutes' conversation,  in  which  he  gave  all  the 
information  he  had  concerning  tbe  search  for  Julia  Bearing 
in  New  Orleans,  Clara  withdrew. 

^'Thisis  an  ugly  business,  Colonel  Leslie;  I  hope  for  the 
best,  but  I  fear  the  worst.  I  have  tried  to  look  impartially 
since  I  have  been  in  the  South  since  the  end  of  the  war,  and 
I  can  see  things  in  a  different  light  from  yourself.  Please 
give  me  your  version  of  this  unfortunate  affair." 

Colonel  Leslie  replied  as  briefly  as  possible,  and  requested 
Colonel  Barnum  to  express  himself  with  perfect  frankness. 

"  I  cordially  wish  that  we  may  be  able  to  liberate  your 
friends,  for  several  of  them  are  mine  also,  but  it  will  be  a 
difficult  task,  and  it  will  take  time." 

"  I  can  swear  that  Captain  Latane  was  in  this  room  at  12 
o'clock  the  night  when  the  killing  of  Washburn  occurred," 
said  Colonel  Leslie. 

"  That  is  fortunate.  We  instinctively  know  that  he  could 
have  had  no  part  in  the  assassination,  but  it  will  take  a 
strong  alibi  to  clear  him.  His  name  seems  to  be  more  prom- 
inently mentioned  than  the  others." 

4 

"How  long  do  you  think  it  will  be  before  they  will  be 
,  tried  ?"  asked  Colonel  Leslie. 

"  I  cannot  tell ;  but  it  is  out  of  the  question  to  forestall 
the  action  of  the  court-martial.  The  trial  will  take  its  couree." 

"What  shall  we  do  meanwhile?" 

"I  propose  to  goto  Washington,  see  the  President  and 
some  influential  friends  that  I  have  in  Congress,  and  endeavor 


ETOWAH.  389 

to  arouse  public  sentiment  against  trial  by  military  courts 
in  lime  of  peace.     I  would  like  to  take  a  petition  with  me." 

"Nothing  is  easier  than  to  get  one.  When  the  prisoners 
were  first  arrested,  they  were  released  on  bond  of  $50,000— 
over  one  thousand  names  being  on  the  bond." 

"A  copy  of  that  bond  will  answer;  nothing  can  better 
show  the  probable  innocence  of  the  majority  of  the  prisoners. 
While  an  arrest  should  have  followed,  more  discretion  should 
have  been  need.  But,  my  dear  sir,  there  is  too  much  vio- 
lence in  the  South  ;  the  newspapers  are  filled  with  reports  of 
'ku-klux'  outiages  continually,  and  public  sentiment  in 
the  North  demands  that  it  shall  cease." 

"  Colonel  BarDum,  I  appreciate  too  well  your  motives  in 
undertaking  the  difficult  mission  which  you  now  assume  to 
indulge  in  idle  argument.  I  know  you  do  it  at  personal 
loss,  if  not  at  personal  risk ;  but  it  is  necessary  that  you 
should  appreciate  the  situation  as  we  see  it  in  order  that 
you  may  properly  influence  your  friends.  Now,  you  com- 
plain oi  the  ku-klux;  while  I  know  no  one  who  belongs  to 
that  organization,  if  it  be  an  organization,  let  me  ask  you  to 
what  tribunal  our  people  can  appeal  in  case  of  outrage  and 
crime  ?" 

''  To  the  law." 

"  You  forget  that  we  have  no  courts  that  are  recognized. 
The  State  itself  is  not  recognized  except  as  a  conquered  prov- 
ince. We  have  neither  judges,  juries  nor  courts.  A  year 
has  passed  since  the  war  ended.  The  condition  of  the  peo- 
ple is  worse  than  it  was  during  the  war.  In  the  field  they 
met  open  enemies  only;  now  they  are  oppressed  by  pre- 
tended friends ;  the  military  power  ought  to  be  their  safe- 
guard and  protection,  but  it  is  turned  into  an  e^ngine  of  op- 
pression." 


390  ETOWAH. 

''  That  is  lamentably  true,"  replied  Barnum,  "  but  I  be- 
lieve that  they  are  doins^  the  best  that  they  can  with  the 
lights  that  are  before  them,  and  I  have  an  abiding  conviction 
that  the  hero  of  Gettysburg  will  never  sully  his  reputation 
by  exceeding  the  bounds  of  justice." 

"  I  trust  that  you  may  be  correct,  my  youngj  friend;  but 
I  have  serious  doubts.  The  Federal  general  sent  by  the 
President  to  report  upon  the  'loyalty'  of  the  people  of  the 
Southern  States  landed  in  New  York  as  a  German  immi- 
grant to  the  United  States  in  1855 — ^just  six  years  before  the 
war  between  the  States  began.  All  his  life  he  had  been  a 
conspirator  against  the  government  to  which  he  owed  alle- 
giance, and  he  was  a  political  exile  until  he  emigrated  to 
America.  After  six  years'  residence  he  became  a  soldier  and 
a  general  of  division  in  the  Union  army ;  and  he,  a  foreigner 
by  birth,  education  and  tastes,  is  esteemed  a  patriot,  while 
Henr}^  Latane,  whose  family  have  been  loyal  citizens  of  Vir- 
ginia and  this  State  for  over  a  century  and  a  half,  is  pro- 
nounced a  traitor!" 

Colonel  Barnum  retained  his  calm,  polite  demeanor  in  an 
admirable  manner,  and  wisely  decided  to  allow  the  old  gen- 
tleman to  exhaust  his  indignation  without  furnishing  fuel 
to  it  in  the  way  of  needless  argument." 

"Why,  sir,"  continued  Colonel  Leslie,  "the  arrests  were 
made  without  warrant,  affidavit  or  charge.  I  know  of  no 
parallel  case  to  it,  except  the  arrests  of  Nihilists  in  Russia, 
and  the  State  prisoners  imprisoned  in  the  Bastile  in  Paris 
during  the  dark  days  of  tyrannj^  in  France.  Like  them, 
these  young  men  have  been  cast  into  prison,  without  accu- 
sation or  trial,  on  a  simple  lettre  de  cachet,  and  their  final  fate 
no  one  can  predict.     It  fatigues  the  indignation ! 

"In  imperial  France,  or  despotic  Russia,  such  arrests  can 


ETOWAH.  391 

be  made  under  the  forms  of  civil  law,  for  there,  detectives 
constitute  the  essence  of  criminal  trials,  but  it  is  contrary 
to  the  spirit  of  American  institutions  to  arrest  people  thus 
by  an  order  from  the  war  department,  and  it  will  fail,  as  it 
ought  to  fail!" 

"Then  you  do  not  believe  these  young  men  will  be  con- 
victed ?"  ^ 

"Of  that  I  cannot  express  an  opinion.  I  was  educated  at 
West  Point,  and  I  have  studied  civil  law.  The  verv  fact 
w^hich  you  allege  concerning  the  insecurity  of  human  life 
now  is  the  best  argument  to  show  the  necessity  of  providing 
for  the  trial  of  accused  persons  through  the  civil  courts.  The 
military  are,  and  will  ever  be,  an  unsafe  depositary  for  the 
legal  relations  of  citizens.  Their  province  is  to  command, 
not  to  give  reasons  for  their  orders.  Not  so  with  the  civilian; 
when  sitting  as  a  judge,  he  is  confined  to  23recedents  in  every 
decision  which  he  announces.  With  the  latter,  the  property, 
the  liberty,  the  life  of  the  citizen  is  comparatively  safe.  The 
military  act  upon  emergencies,  and  the  rapidity  of  their 
action  precludes  the  due  consideration  which  justice  to  the 
accused  demands. 

"The  courts,  on  the  other  hand,  are  calm,  careful,  deliber- 
ate. Their  rules  of  evidence  allow  evervthing  which  can  be 
brought  before  the  court  in  exculpation  of  the  accused.  Mili- 
tary law  seizes  only  a  few  salient  points,  and  on  these  a 
judgment  is  rendered.  During  a  war  there  is  necessity  for 
its  exercise,  but  in  times  of  peace  when  there  is  no  armed 
force  against  the  government,  and  no  hostility  manifested 
by  the  citizens  against  the  civil  law,  military  rule  is  a  con- 
stant source  of  irritation. 

"The  South  is  well-nigh  paralyzed  by  the  military  parasites 
which  it  is  compelled  to  support." 


392  ETOWAH. 

Then,  recalling  the  disinterested  object  of  Barnum's  visit 
he  changed  his  tone  and  said  :  "I  speak  to  you,  not  as  to  an 
officer  whose  amour  propre  I  would  wound,  but  as  to  a  citi- 
zen of  the  great  Republic,  who  is  now  anxious  to  see  a  nation- 
al spirit  supersede  that  of  allegiance  to  the  State.  I  trust 
that  you  may  succeed.  If  Congress  could  see  the  results  of 
the  war  as  the  President  and  the  Secretary  of  State  see  it, 
this  spirit  would  grow ;  if  the  contrary  policy  is  adopted, 
this  century  will  pass  away  before  the  Ijitterness  engendered 
will  totally  expire." 

"Do  not  you  think  the  North  as  a  people,  and  the  United 
States  as  a  government,  have  dealt  magnanimously  with 
the  Southern  people  ?"  asked  Barnum. 

"Unquestionably — nothing  in  modern  history  will  equal 
it  up  to  the  period  that  these  proscriptive  meaures  were 
introduced  in  Congress.  It  resembled  the  act  of  ancient 
Rome,  which  proclaimed,  instantly  upon  the  close  of  civil 
war,  unqualified  amnesty  for  all,  and  no  triumph  was  de- 
creed to  the  victors.  It  seems  a  pity  that  mere  politicians 
shall  be  allowed  to  mar  that  magnificent  record." 

Colonel  Leslie  then  handed  to  Barnum  the  order  conven- 
ing the  military  court  to  try  the  prisoners.  It  was  as  fol- 
lows :  , 

"Headquarters  Third  Military  District. 
Special  orders.     No.  136.       [Extract.]     >!<     *     >K     *     *     * 

"II.  A  Military   Commission    is   hereby    appointed   to 

assemble  at barracks,  at  ten  o'clock  a.  m.  on  Monday,  the 

29th  of  June,  for  the  trial  of  such  prisoners  as  may  be  brought 
before  it  by  orders  from  these  headquarters.  The  Commis- 
sion will  sit  without  regard  to  hours." 

Then  follows  the  detail  for  the  Commission,  embracing 
three  brigadier-generals,  two  colonels  and  two  majors,  and 
concluding  with  the  announcement  that  "the  assistant  judge- 


ETOWAH.  393 

advocate  general  of  the  army  is  appointed  judge-advocate  of 
the  commission,"  ending  with  the  words,  "by  order  of  the 
Major  General  commanding. 

"Official :  W.  W.   Randers,  R.  C.  Bass, 

A.  A.  I.  G.  A.  A.  G. 

After  carefully  reading  it,  Barnum  returned  it  to  Colonel 
Leslie,  saying  : 

"There  is  a  class  of  'patriots'  in  the  land  wh6  wave  the 
'broody  shirt'  as  constantly,  remorselessly  and  unscrupu- 
lously now,  as  they  were  assiduous  in  keeping  out  of  danger 
during  the  war.  In  the  eyes  of  men  of  this  class 
defeat  is  the  most  heinous  of  crimes,  success  the  sublim- 
est  of  virtues,  and  the  acquisition  of  riches  the  acme  of 
human  effort.  We  have  many  such,  and  your  Mr.  Welling- 
ton Napoleon  Potts  seems  a  striking  exemplification  of  it 
here.  I  shall  see  the  President  and  the  Secretary  of  War 
and  endeavor  to  open  their  eyes  to  the  real  facts."  Thus 
bidding  Colonel  Leslie  farewell,  the  young  officer  retired. 


CHAPTER    XXXYI. 

AN    AMERICAN    SOVEREIGN. 

Colonel  Barnum  had  been  in  Washington  two  weeks, 
and  he  had  exhausted  all  efforts  to  befriend  the  Etowah 
prisoners  now  on  trial  for  their  lives.  Fate  was  kinder  to 
him  than  it  had  been,  inasmuch  as  he  was  required  to  re- 
main on  duty  in  Washington,  and  could  not,  therefore,  be 
present  at  the  trial. 

But  one  more  hope  remained,  and  that  was  to  interest 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  who  had  so  narrowly 
escaped  assassination  at  the  hands  of  Atzeroth. 

But  the  week  before  he  had  witnessed  the  hanging  of 
Mrs.  Surratt,  charged  with  being  an  accomplice  in  the  mur- 
der of  President  Lincoln.  She  had  been  convicted  on 
purely  circumstantial  evidence,  and  the  American  heart 
revolts  at  the  hanging  of  a  woman.  How  slender,  then, 
seemed  the  chances  in  favor  of  the  Etowah  prisoners  now 
being  tried  by  a  military  commission.  He  shuddered  as 
he  mentally  saw  again  the  dreadful  scene  where  Mrs. 
Surratt,  Payne  and  Atzeroth  were  hung. 

There  they  stood  on  the  scaffold.  The  sun  cast  down  its 
burning  rays  and  despair,  like  an  angel  of  gloom,  shrouded 
the  faces  of  the  condemned.  There  they  stood  on  the 
scaffold,  that  sultry  July  day,  until  the  dread  signal  was 
given  that  launched  them  into  eternity.  One,  a  woman 
convicted  on  purely  circumstantial  evidence,  looked  up 


ETOWAH.  395 

at  the  scaffold  with  a  bewildered  gaze,  and  then  turned 
with  intense  anguish  to  the  multitude  before  her. 

A  shudder,  like  an  electrical  current  of  sympathy,  passed 
through  that  vast  crowd. 

During  the  reading  of  the  order  ibr  her  execution,  two 
priests  held  crucifixes  before  her  eyes  but  she  seemed  to 
see  them  not ;  then  suddenly  she  kissed  the  crucifixes  fer- 
vently and  closed  her  eves  in  praver.  Her  arras  were 
pinioned,  her  bonnet  was  removed,  and  a  white  cloth  was 
tied  around  the  skirts  of  her  dress  below  the  knees.  The 
rope  was  then  placed  around  her  neck  and  her  face  was 
covered  with  a  white  cap  reaching  down  to  her  shoulders. 
Standing  near  her  was  Colonel  Barnum  an  unwilling,  but 
in  the  line  of  military  duty,  a  necessary  spectator.  The 
multitude  looked  on  with  the  deepest  sympathy ;  but  in 
unison  with  the  people  around  him  Barnum's  attention 
was  now  diverted  to  another,  whose  striking  personal  ap- 
pearance dignified  even  the  criminal.  He  was  said  to  be 
the  son  of  a  minister  in  Florida,  but  now  his  name  was 
announced  as  Lewis  Payne.  He  seemed  unmoved  by  the 
awful  fate  in  store  for  him,  and  looked  as  defiant  and  fear- 
less as  did  Robert  Emmett  on  the  scaftbld.  With  eagle 
eves  he  looked  down  on  the  multitude,  as  if  death  was  but 
a  momentary  spectre  to  be  brushed  away  at  will.  There 
was  an  unmistakable  commotion  as  this  remarkably  hand- 
some man  walked  to  his  death  without  a  tremor,  and  de- 
clined politely  all  assistance.  No  man  among  all  the 
spectators  looked  less  like  a  criminal  than  did  Lewis 
Payne,  and  it  seemed  impossible  to  associate  him  with  a 
petty  purpose  or  the  malice  of  an  assassin.     Was  he  crazy, 


396  ETOWAH. 

like  John  Wilkes  Booth  ?  His  perfect  calmness  and  self- 
possession  was  retained  to  the  last.  He  glanced  curiously 
at  the  scaifold.  then  fixed  his  eye  on  the  line  of  soldiery  as 
if  he  would  give  the  command  ^'  fire  !"  and  thus  order  his 
own  execution. 

No  one  knew  him,  or  where  he  came  from  ;  and  the  deep 
mystery  of  his  career  has  not  been  revealed  to  this  day. 
But  all  felt  that  there  ended  a  career  fitted  for  better 
things  and  nobler  acts;  and  y'el  that  this  splendid  will- 
power had  been  wofull}"  misguided. 

The  gentle-hearted  but  heroic  Lincoln  could  not  be 
charged  with  the  unprovoked  murders  in  the  South,  and 
the  scales  of  justice  in  his  firm  hands  leaned  to  mercv  and 
conciliation.  When,  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame,  he  was 
stricken  down  by  the  hands  of  the  assassin,  a  sympathy 
for  the  vanquished  South  was  changed  to  a  frenzied  hatred. 
Hence  the  hanging  of  this  woman,  and  hence  the  deep 
anxiety  of  Colonel  Barnum  concerning  the  fate  of  the 
Etowah  prisoners. 

It  had  seemed  to  him  that  fate  was  unkind  in  requiring, 
of  all  men,  his  presence  at  this  scene.  He  felt  that  his 
self-imposed  mission  was  doubly  difficult  now,  since  Vice- 
President  Johnson  had  narrowly  escaped  assassination  at 
the  hands  of  Atzeroth,  and  had  been  thus  elevated  to  the 
Presidency. 

In  troops  these  thoughts  rushed  across  his  brain,  as  he 
awaited  an  interview  with  one  of  the  simplest  mannered 
men  on  earth,  and  yet,  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  earth's 
potentates. 

A  monarch  for  four  years  of  a  country  so  vast  that  it 


ETOWAH.  397 

rivals  in  territory  and  population  ancient  Rome  and  all 
of  its  Provinces.  Mr.  Gladstone  has  admirably  described 
in  one  of  his  essays,  the  isolation  which  the  custom  of  cen- 
turies imposes  on  Enfrlish  royalty. 

'^  To  be  served  by  all  is  dangerous ;  to  be  contradicted 
bv  none  is  worse.  Takinii;  into  view  the  immense  in- 
crease  in  the  appliances  of  material  ease  and  luxury,  the 
general  result  is  that  in  the  private  and  domestic  sphere 
a  royal  will  enjoys  at  this  epoch,  more  nearly  than  in  any 
past  generation,  the  privileges  of  a  kind  of  omnipotence. 
At  the  same  time,  the  principal  burden  of  care  and  all  re- 
sponsibility for  acts  of  administration,  and  for  the  state  of 
the  country,  is  transferred  to  the  heads  of  others,  and  even 
the  voice  of  the  lightest  criticism  is  rarelv  heard." 

The  hereditary  monarch  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland, 
can  be  approached  by  her  subjects,  only  through  the  cere- 
monious channels  of  royal  etiquette. 

The  President  of  the  United  States,  at  the  time  of  which 
we  write,  did  not  aspire  even  to  Carlyle's  respectability 
that  "  keeps  a  gig,"  said  a  critic  of  this  President  who  had 
so  narrowly  escaped  assassination  at  the  hands  of  Atzeroth. 
The  President  of  the  United  States,  unlike  the  crowned 
heads  of  Europe,  can  be  approached  by  the  humblest  citi- 
zen of  the  Republic.  No  gilt-covered  lackeys,  no  fawning 
courtiers  clad  in  the  habiliments  of  office,  no  august  cere- 
monial is  necessary  to  give  one  the  entree  to  the  salon  of 
the  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  United  States.  Clad  as  a  sim- 
ple citizen,  seated  at  his  desk  laboriously  looking  over  the 
papers  presented  for  his  signature,  this  President,  who 
began  his  manhood  as  a  tailor  in  a  small  town  in  the  State 


398  ETOWAH. 

of  Tennessee,  extended  his  hand  with  a  kindly  greeting  as 
the  earnest  young  officer  entered  the  room.  From  the 
great  windows  he  could  see  the  broad  bosom  of  the  Poto- 
mac, and  the  green  lawn  about  the  White  House,  and  the 
thronged  streets,  in  the  vicinage.  Otherwise  the  Presi- 
dent's domestic  and  official  life  seemed  like  that  of  any 
man  of  affairs  immersed  in  business  cares.  Determination 
was  traced  in  every  lineament,  but  underneath  it  all  was  a 
rugged  honesty  and  kindliness  which  bespoke  him  the 
man  of  the  people. 

He  was  popularly  called  "  the  man  with  the  backbone," 
owing  to  his  sturdy  defence  of  the  constitutional  rights, 
of  the  States,  and  his  stubborn  contest  with  the  majority 
in  Congress.  He  had  vetoed  the  Civil  Rights  Bill,  and 
Congress  passed  it  over  his  veto.  He  had  vetoed  the  Con- 
stitutional xlmendments,  one  after  the  other,  and  Congress 
had  preferred  articles  of  impeachment. 

They  had  failed,  as  he  had  failed;  for  when  the  popular 
mind  of  America  is  fully  enlightened,  the  verdict  of  the 
people,  in  the  long  run,  is  apt  to  be  right. 

After  the  usual  salutations.  Colonel  Barnum  related  the 
incidents  already  narrated,  and  asked  the  President  if  he 
could  suggest  any  method  of  relief. 

"  No;  I  am  powerless  in  this  matter.  It  is  my  duty  to 
see  that  the  laws  are  executed,  not  to  shield  criminals," 
answered  the  President.  *  , 

"  But  these  gentlemen  are  not  criminals,"  urged  Colonel 
Barnum. 

"  That  may  be  true  ;  I  don't  know.  But  the  imperative 
duty  of  Congress  is  to  re-admit  the  States  to  the  exercise 


ETOWAH.  399 

of  all  their  sovereign  functions,  and  let  the  State  courts 
handle  this  matter." 

"  But  they  are  being  tried  by  court-martial." 

^'  Certainly,  there  are  no  civil  tribunals  there  to  which 
they  can  be  referred,  and  the  responsibility  must  rest  with 
Congress." 

"  But  Congress  seems  under  the  domination  of  preju- 
dice. May  I  read  to  you,  Mr.  President,  a  few  sentences 
uttered  in  the  Senate  yesterday  by  a  leading  Senator  ? " 

The  President  tacitlv  assented,  and  Barnum  read  as 
follows : 

"  Gentlemen  here  have  said  you  must  not  humble  these 
people.  Why  not  ?  Do  they  not  deserve  humiliation  ?  If 
not,  who  does  ?  What  criminal,  what  felon,  deserves  it 
more,  sir  ?  They  have  not  yet  confessed  their  sins ;  and 
He  who  administers  mercy  and  justice  never  forgives  un- 
til the  sinner  confesses  his  sins  and  humbles  himself  at 
His  footstool.  Why  should  we  forgive  more  than  He  ? 
But  we  are  told  we  must  take  them  back  as  equal  brothers. 
I  shall  not  agree  that  they  shall  come  back  except  as  sup- 
plicants in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  and  if  they  undertake  to 
come  here  we  will  shoot  them.  Let  not  these  friends  of 
Secession  sing  to  me  their  siren  song  of  peace  and  good 
will  until  they  can  stop  my  ears  to  the  groans  of  these 
dying  victims.  I  hold  in  my  hand  an  elaborate  account 
from  a  man  whom  I  believe  to  be  of  the  highest  respecta- 
bility, every  word  of  which  I  believe.  This  account  of 
that  foul  transaction  is  more  horrible  in  its  atrocity,  though 
not  to  the  same  extent,  than  the  massacre  at  Jamaica. 
Gentlemen  tell  us  this  section  is  too  strong ;  too  strong 
for  what  ?     Too  strong  for  their  stomachs,  but  not  for  the 


400  ETOWAH. 

people.  It  is  too  lenient  for  my  hard  heart.  Not  only  to 
1870,  but  to  18070,  every  rebel  who  shed  the  blood  of 
loyal  men  should  be  prevented  from  exercising  any  power 
in  this  Government.  That  would  even  be  too  mild  a  pun- 
ishment for  them." 

The  '•  gentleman  of  the  highest  respectability"  to  whom 
this  Senator  referred  was  none  other  than  Wellington 
Napoleon  Potts.  The  crime  alluded  to  was  the  murder  of 
George  AVashburn.  Barnum  had  taken  this  opportunity 
to  read  these  words  from  the  newspaper,  and  the  President 
smiled  as  he  thought  of  the  shrewdness  with  which  this 
young  officer  thus  offered  his  arguments.  The  President 
remained  silent,  and  Barnum  continued: 

I  entered  the  army,  Mr.  President,  with  the  conviction 
that  I  was  fighting  for  the  restoration  of  the  Union.  I 
drew  my  inspiration  from  the  words  of  President  Lincoln : 
*  If  I  could  save  the  Union  by  freeing  every  slave  I  would 
do  it;  if  I  could  save  the  Union  by  refusing  to  free  a  sin- 
gle slave  I  would  do  that.'  I  consider  that  in  view  of  the 
Constitution  and  the  laws,  the  Union  is  unbroken." 

'•  Mr.  Lincoln  was  right,"  said  the  President.  ^'  He  of- 
fered to  receive  the  whole  Legislature  of  Richmond — a 
rebel  Legislature — and  would  have  welcomed  them  with 
open  arms.  Would  he  have  refused  to  receive  these 
States,  now  that  thev  have  fullv  submitted?" 

"  Why,  if  they  had  offered  to  come  back,  or  any  of  them, 
during  the  rebellion,  should  we  have  turned  them  awav 
on  the  ground  that  they  had  placed  themselves  out  of  the 
Union  ?  The  very  thing  which  we  said  these  Southern 
States  could  never  do,  which  we  fought  these  four  years 


ETOWAH.  401 

to  prevent  them  doing,  these  men  affirm  that  they  have 
actuallv  done,  viz. :  been  out  of  the  Union.  The  Southern 
States  are  ready  to  come  back  upon  our  terms,  take  loyal 
oaths,  and  acknowledge  their  allegiance,  but  these  men 
say  they  shall  not.'' 

'•  Their  object  is  manifest.  They  know  perfectly  well 
that  when  the  South  comes  back  into  Congress  their  day 
of  power  is  over." 

'•  1  agree  with  you  fully,  Mr.  President,  and  I  greatly 
fear  that  procrastination  will  intensify  the  discontent 
which  is  permeating  the  Southern  States,  until  such  mur- 
ders as  that  with  which  these  gentlemen  are  charged  will 
become  too  numerous  to  quell  except  by  a  large  standing 
army.  I  do  not  think  that  there  can  ever  be  justification 
for  lynch  law  where  the  civil  law  is  in  force.  But  martial 
law  prevails  there,  and  we  know  too  well  what  that  means, 
even  though  the  officers  are  animated  by  the  best  mo- 
tives.'* 

The  President  signified  his  assent  to  these  views  by  bow- 
ing in  silence.  Then  he  added :  "  Congress  represents  the 
States,  but  the  men  who  voted  for  Congressmen  all  voted 
in  my  election.  I  am  like  the  tribunes  elected  by  the 
lioman  people  ;  I  am  to  stand  and  represent  their  interests, 
the  interests  of  all  the  States.'' 

"  The  old  issues  of  slavery  and  State  sovereignty  are 
dead  and  buried,  and  the  party  which  now  rules  may  be 
stripped  of  power.  Their  talk  about  philanthropy  and 
benevolence  to  the  negro  means  nothing  more  than  a  de- 
sire to  work  upon  the  feelings  of  the  North,  so  that  they 

26 


402  ETOWAH. 

may  be  able  to  carry  everything  their  own  way.  It  is  a 
renewal  of  the  old  conflict.  Each  side  was  willing  to  sac- 
ritice  the  Government  in  order  to  gain  its  object  before 
the  rebellion  broke  out.  The  South  struck  fiist ;  the  re- 
bellion was  subdued  at  the  Southern  end  of  the  line,  and 
now  it  is  swinging  round  to  the  other  end. 

•'The  Radical  party  is  almost  ready  to  go  into  rebellion 
again  rather  than  have  their  supremacy  destroyed  by  the 
re  introduction  of  the  South.  They  know  nothing  practi- 
cally of  the  real  state  of  the  South.  The  ver}^  man  who 
drew  up  the  Civil  Rights  Bill,  what  are  his  means  of  judg- 
ing? I  left  him  in  the  Senate  during  the  war,  and  went 
out  to  Tennessee  and  saw  it  all,  and  bore  ni}^  share  of  the 
troubles.  He  stopped  at  home,  and  now  endeavors  to  make 
his  theories  square  into  the  events  of  the  war^  and  legislate 
on  ideas  which  he  has  never  put  to  the.  test.  He  is  as  un- 
reasonable as  an  old  magistrate  in  Tennessee  used  to  be  : 
old  Jim  McGinnis  was  a  magistrate  there  before  the  war, 
and  one  dav  when  a  case  about  the  hire  of  a  neo'ro.  came 

^  ^ — 

up  belbre  him,  he  would-nt  let  the  lawyer  read  from  Green- 
leaf  on  evidence  because  Greenleaf  lived  in  Boston. 
'  What  does  he  know  about  the  hire  of  a  nigger  V  said  he. 
'  He  never  owned  one,  nor  hired  one,  nor  lived  where 
there  was  one,  and  he  don't  know  no  more  about  -em  than 
the  man  in  the  moon.'  "' 

Barnum  smiled  as  he  heard  this  humorous  illustration 
and  said : 

''  I  think  the  country  appreciates  your  efforts  to  represent 
the  interests  of  the  whole  country,  Mr.  President." 


ETOWAH.  403 

The  President's  face  assumed  a  grave  expression  as  he  an- 
swered : 

"  I  hope  they  do.  What  other  objects  can  I  have  than  to 
represent  those  interests — the  interest  of  our  common  coun- 
try ?  I  have  no  selfish  interests  to  promote,  I  have  gone  the 
whole  giddy  round  from  Alderman  upward,  and  I  do  not 
value  this  office  (here  the  President  spoke  with  great  earn- 
f-stness  and  feeling)  except  for  the  good  which  it  may  enable 
me  to  do.  I  want  but  a  corner  of  this  house  to  live  in,  and 
I  do  not  care  a  bawbee,  as  the  Scotch  say,  for  all  the  rest. 
Let  me  but  see  the  country  at  harmony  and  peace,  how 
gladly  would  I  give  up  all.  We  think,"  he  added  these 
words  with  a  smile,  "this  is  :i  great  position.  With  onr 
ideas  we  are  educated  to  do  so;  but  I  can  assure  you  that  I 
am  often  here  twelve  hours  a  day  without  it  ever  occurring 
to  me  that  I  am  President."  He  evidentlv  meant,  without, 
the  pride  of  power  occurring  to  him. 

And  Colonel  Barnum  left  him  without  having  secured  any 
promise  of  relief,  or  any  indication  of  his  purpose.  The  Pres- 
ident had  turned  the  conversation  to  public  affairs  in  a  gen- 
eral way,  scarcely  alluding  to  the  particular  object  of  Colonel 
Barnum's  visit. 

Yet  he  left  Avith  the  conviction  that  all  would  be  done  that 
could  be  done  in  behalf  of  the  prisoners,  by  this  strong-willed 
man,  who  had  been  scorned  and  ostracized  as  a  traitor  bv  the- 
whole  South  during  the  war,  and  was  now  the  target  for  the 
malice  and  hate  of  all  the  Jacobins  in  Congress,  who  saw  in 
him  a  stumbling  block  and  a  barrier  to  the  realization  of 
their  revolutionary  aims. 

But  the  leaders  in  Congress  were  Radicals  as  bold  and  tena- 
cious as  was  the  President,  and  the  situation  seemed  critical 


404  ETOWAH. 

in  the  extreme  for   the  unfortunate  prisoners,  as  the  detail? 
of  the  trial  given  below  will  indicate. 

The  Judge  Advocate  stated  that  it  would  be  necessary  for 
each  of  the  accused  to  plead  separately  to  the  charge  and 
specification.  The  accused  were  then  severally  asked  by  the 
Judge  Advocate  how  they  pleaded  to  the  charge  and  specifi- 
cation which  was  read  to  them  yesterday.  The  accused  then 
severally  pleaded  as  follows  : 

To  the  specification,  "Not  Guilty." 

To  the  charge,  "Not  Guilty." 

The  examination  of  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution  had 
consumed  two  weeks.  Among  them  were  two  whose  testi- 
mony would  certainly  prove  fatal  to  many  if  not  all  of  the 
accused,  unless  rebutted. 

The  first  was  a  Federal  soldier;  the  second  an  ex-policeman, 
both  of  whom  had  turned  State's  evidence. 

EXAMINED  BY  THE  JUDGE-ADVOCATE. 

Charles  Carshall,  a  witness  for  the  prosecution,  was  then 
called,  and  having  been  duly  sworn,  testified  as  follows  : 

Q.  What  is  your  name,  your  age,  and  your  occupation  ? 

A.  Charles  Carshall ;  age,  twenty-seven  ;  occupation,  sol- 
dier. 

Q.  In  what  service  are  you  a  soldier,  how  long  have  you 
been  in  that  service,  and  to  what  company  do  you  belong  ? 

A.  The  United  States  service;  in  that  service  since  1861 ; 
belong  to  Company  G.  of  the  16th  Infantry. 

Q.  Where  have  you  been  on  duty  during  the  last  year? 

A.  In  the  city  of  Etowah. 

Q.  Were  you  acquainted  with  George  Washburn,  late  of 
Etowah  ? 

A.  Yes,  sir. 


ETOWAH.  405 

Q.  Were  you  present  at  his  death  ? 

A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Did  he  die  a  natural  death,  or  death  bv  violence  ? 

A.  By  violence,  sir. 

Q.  State  how  you  came  to  be  present  at  his  death  ? 

A.  I  was  induced  to  go  there,  sir. 

Q.  Who  induced  you  to  go  there?  State  all  the  circum- 
stances attending  the  death  of  Washburn,  so  far  as  you  know 
them. 

A.  I  was  first  spoken  to  about  it,  about  three  weeks  before 
the  affair  took  place.  I  had  another  interview  about  three 
days  before  it  took  place.  The  night  that  the  affair  took 
place  I  went  down  there  between  the  hours  of  half  past 
eleven  and  twelve,  as  near  as  I  can  judge ;  I  met  the  part}^  that 
committed  the  deed ;  we  then  crossed  the  street.  Arrived 
at  the  house  occupied  by  George  Washburn,  one  of  the 
party  asked  for  admission  ;  there  was  no  reply  and  some  one 
then  knocked  at  the  door;  the  answer  came  from  the  inside, 
■■  Who  is  there  ?  What  do  you  want  ?"  The  party  outside 
made  answer  and  said  :  ''If  you  don't  let  me  in  I'll  break 
the  door  down."  The  panel  of  the  door  was  then  broken 
and  the  door  opened.  As  soon  as  the  door  was  broken  open, 
the  party  entered,  and  as  they  did  so  Mr.  Washburn  asked, 
"  Who  comes  there  ?"  and  then  they  opened  the  door  and 
stepped  back.  There  was  a  round  table  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  and  a  light  was  on  the  table.  Washburn  was  behind  the 
table  at  that  time,  his  pistol  grasped  in  his  hand,  which  he 
raised  and  fired.  The  firing  was  returned  by  our  party.  As 
soon  as  the  firing  ceased  he  fell.  There  were  from  ten  to 
fourteen  shots  fired  altogether,  as  near  as  I  can  recollect. 
After  that  was  over,  I  went  out  of  the  house  immediatelv, 
and  proceeded  to  my  quarters. 


406  ETOWAH. 

Q.  Did  you  get  notice  when  the  "  affair,"  as  you  call  it, 
was  to  take  place  ? 

A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.  How,  when  and  where  did  you  get  that  notice? 

A.  At  my  quarters,  a  little  before  three  o'clock,  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  30th,  the  day  it  took  place;  it  was  brought 
to  me  by  a  negro  boy. 

Q.  Brought  how? 

A.  It  was  wrapped  up  in  a  piece  of  brown  paper ;  there 
was  a  mask  with  writing  on  a  piece  of  paper  on  the  inside 
of  it;  the  writing  stated,  "meet  to-night  at  twelve  o'clock." 

Q.  What  has  become  of  that  writing? 

A.  I  tore  it  up,  sir,  as  soon  as  I  read  it. 

Q.  State,  if  you  remember,  what  that  writing  contained? 

A.  "  Meet  to-night  at  twelve  o'clock,"  sir. 

Q.  Did  you  know  the  negro  boy  who  left  the  bundle,  as 
you  have  said  ? 

A.  I  did  not,  sir;  I  had  never  seen  him  before. 

Q.  What  kind  of  a  mask  was  it  ? 

A.  An  ordinary  false-face,  sir ;  made  out  of  pasteboard. 

Q.  Was  there  any  signature  to  the  notice  which  you  say 
you  received  ? 

A.  Xo,  sir. 

Q.  Did  you  know  the  handwriting? 

A.  No,  sir. 

Q.  Did  you  go  into  the  house,  you  have  described,  the 
night  Washburn  was  killed?  If  so,  state  when  you  entered, 
and  what  other  person,  if  any,  went  in  with  you  ? 

A.  I  did,  sir;  sometime  near  midnight;  the  parties  that 
went  in  with  me  are  those  that  I  have  mentioned  as  being 
among  the  accused   now   on   trial   here.     There  were  others 


ETOWAH.  -  407 

there,  but  those  1  could   not  recognize,  and  don't  know  who 
they  are ;  there  were  from  twent}^  to  thirty  in  the  party. 

Q.  Are  you  certain  and  positive  that  you  saw  Luke,  Har- 
ber  and  Hodson,  the  accused  now  before  you,  in  the  house 
when  Washburn  was  killed  that  night  ? 

A.  I  did  not  see  them  all  in  the  house;  I  saw  some  in  the 
house,  and  some  outside. 

Q.  Which  were  in,  and  which  out  ? 

A.  Luke,  Hodson  and  Harber  were  inside ;  they  were  in 
the  door  leading  out  of  the  second  room  into  the  third ;  I 
saw  them  and  this  man  I  take  for  Botts ;  they  were  standing 
right  in  the  door  where  the  shooting  took  place ;  the  other 
two  were  in  the  room,  and  Mallon  was  in  that  room  too — in 
the  second  room. 

Q.  You  are  certain  and  positive,  then,  that  all  those  parties 
were  in  the  house  at  or  about  the  time  of  the  killing  ? 

A.  I  am,  sir. 

Q.  Are  you  just  as  positive  in  this  statement  as  in  any 
vou  have  made  ? 

A.  I  am,  sir. 

Q.  You  know,  do  you  not,  that  by  making  the  statement 
you  have  just  made  you  will  be  saved  yourself? 

A.  I  don't  know,  sir. 

Q.  Did  not  Major  Hefflin  tell  you  he  would  guarantee  you 
against  all  harm  on  account  of  this  if  you  would  ? 

A.  He  told  me  that  he  would  guarantee  me  protection, 
sir. 

QUESTIONS    BY    PROSECUTION. 

George  Botts  was  brought  into  court  and  duly  sworn. 

Q.  What  is  your  name! 

A.  My  name  is  George  Botts. 


-iOS  ETOWAH. 

Q.  Where  do  you  live  ? 

A.  In  Etowah. 

Q.  Were  you  acquainted  with  George  Washburn  ? 

A.  Not  personally. 

Q.  Did  you  know  him  by  sight? 

A.  I  did,  sir. 

Q.  Is  he  dead  or  alive  ? 

^.  He  is  dead,  sir. 

Q.  Were  you  present  at  his  death  ? 

A.  I  was,  sir. 

Q.  How  did  he  die? 

A.  He  was  shot. 

Q.  How  many  persons  were  present  when  he  was  i^hot? 

A.  Between  twenty-five  and  thirty,  I  think,  sir. 

Q.   Where  was  he  killed? 

A.  In  Etowah. 

Q.  How  man)^  persons,  and  who  were  they,  to  the  best  of 
your  knowledge,  who  entered  the  house? 

A.  I  can't  tell  how  many  came  into  the  house. 

Q.  Did  you  go  in  ? 

A.  I  did,  sir. 

Q.  Do  you  know  any  persons  whom  you  can  identify  who 
went  in  ?. 

A.  I  do. 

Q.  Who  were  they  ? 

A.  Mr.  Luke. 

Q.  If  he  is  here,  point  him  out. 

A.  (Witness  pointing  to  one  of  the  prisoners.)  There  he 
is,  sir. 

Q.  Who  else? 

A.  Mr.  Hodson. 

Q.  Can  you  point  him  out  ? 


ETOWAH.  409 

A.  I  can. 

Q.  Do  so.     A.  (Witness  pointed  to  one   of  the  prisoners.) 

Q    Do  you  see  any  one  else  present  who  was   in  theie? 

A.  I  do. 

Q.  State  who,  and  point  him  out. 
.    A.  All  of  them,  sir. 

Q    Point  out  one  at  a  time. 

A.  (The  witness  pointed  to  each  prisoner  severally,  who  at 
trie  order  of  the  court  rose  up  in  full  view  of  the  court  as 
his  name  was  called  bv  the  wifness.  Onlv  one  of  the  ac- 
ciised  was  omitted,  and  the  witness  averted  his  eye.-  from 
those  of  that  prisoner  which  seemed  blazing  with  indigna- 
tion.) 

Q.  Any  one  else? 

A.  I  am  not  certain  about  Captain  Latane. 

Q.  Well,  if  there  is  any  reason  that  induces  you  to  believe 
that  he  is  the  man,  or  any  description  of  his  person,  state 
them. 

A.  The  man  in  command  of  that  squad,  I  take  to  be  Cap- 
tain Latane. 

Q.  Why  did  you  take  him  to  be  Latane? 

A.  From  his  appearance,  sir. 

Q.  What  was  his  appearance  ? 

A.  Just  as  it  is  novv,  sir. 

Q.  If  he  was  disguised  in  any  way,  state  it — how? 

A.  He  wore  a  mask,  sir. 

Q.  What  did  this  person  do  there  that  night,  whom  \ou 
took  to  be  Captain  Latane? 

A.  He  seemed  to  have  command  of  the  party. 

Q.  How  many  of  those  persons,  if  any,  whom  you  have 
named,  went  with  vou  into  the  house?" 

A.  Mr.  Luke,  Mr.  Hodson,  Mr.  Harber  went  in  with  me. 


410  ETOWAH. 

Q.  Any  one  else? 

A.  No,  sir;  they  came  behind  me  whoever  else  came  into 
thn  house. 

Q.  Did  \  ou  see Carshall anywhere  that  night — a  soldier? 

A.  I  did,  sir. 

Q.   where  was  he  when  you  went  into  the  house? 

A.  He  was  with  me. 

Q.  Were  you  and  the  others  who  first  went  in  with  you 
armed  ? 

A.  They  were,  sir. 

Q.  With  what? 

A.  With  pistols. 

Q.  What  sort  of  pistols  ? 

A.   I  did  not  notice  closely;  revolvers*,  I  believe. 

Q.  What  was  yours  ? 

A    A  revolver,  sir. 

Q.  When  you  got  to  Washburn's  door,  what  then  oc- 
curred? 

A.  Firing,  sir. 

Q.  How  many  shots  were  fired? 

A.  To  the  best  of  my  belief  there  were  thirteen  or  fourteen. 

Q.  Who  fired  ? 

A    1  did,  sir. 

Q.  Who  else? 

A    Mr.  Luke. 

Q.  Who  else? 

A.  Mr.  Hodeon. 

Q    Anybody  else?  .; 

A.  Mr.  Harber. 

Q.  Any  one  else  ? 

A.  Mr.  Carc'hall. 

Q.  Was  there  any  one  else  ? 


ETOWAH.         /  411 

A.  I  tiiink  not,  sir;  not  where  I  could  see  them. 

Q.  Did  you  see  Washburn  fcill? 

A.  I  did,  sir. 

Q.   What  did  the  part}^  then  do? 

A.  They  retired  from  the  house. 

Q,    Who  did  you  first  meet  when  you  got  there  that  night? 

A.   Met  Bill  Luke. 

Q    Who  next? 

A.  Met  the  crowd  next. 

Q.   Why  did  they  say  they  wanted  to  kill  Washburn  ? 

A.  They  didn't  tell  me  that. 

Q.  Why  did  he  say  it? 

A.  He  didn't  tell  me. 

Q.  Did  he  say  anything  about  money  or  anything  of  value, 
and  what? 

A.  He  did,  sir;  he  said  he  would  give  me  so  much  money 
to  go  there. 

Q.  Whcitsum? 

A    Fifty  or  a  hundred  dollars. 

Q.   State  whether  you  agreed  to  go. 

A.  I  did. 

Q.  Was  any  time  fixed. 

A.  There  was. 

Q.  When  was  it? 

A.  Monday  night. 

Q.  What  month,  and  what  day  of  the  month  was  that 
Monday  night? 

A.  It  was  the  month  of  March,  and  the  30th  day  of  the 
month. 

Q.  Was  anything  said  about  the  time  of  night  the  meet- 
ing was  to  take  place  ? 
A.  There  was. 


-^i  12  ETOWAH. 

Q.     What  time? 

A.  Between  twelve  and  one  o'clock. 

RE  EXAMINATION    BY    PROSECUTION. 

Q.  Do  you  not  know  many  persons  by  sight  to  whom  you 
have  never  been  introduced,  and  with  whom  you  have  never 
spoken. 

A.  I  do,  sir. 

Q.  You  testify  that  you  heard  these  persons  in  conversa 
tion  before  you   went  into  the  house;  I  ask  you  whether 
there  was  any  light  in  Washburn's  room  a'ter  you  went  in  ? 

A.  There  was. 

Q.  State  whether  you  s  iw  ihem  in  the  room  when  the 
light  shown  upon  them  ? 

A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  State  whether  that  did,  or  did  not,  aid  you  in  identify- 
ing them. 

A.  Not  particularly  ;  I  knowed  who  they  were. 

Q.  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  knew  before  they  went  in 
who  they  were  ? 

A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.  State  whether,  on  seeing  them  in  the  light,  you  found 
yourself  mistaken  as  to  any  of  them,  and  if  so,  w^ho? 

A.  I  did  not. 

Q.  State  w^hether  or   not,  in  the   crowd  that    night,  you 
heard  any  of  those  present  call  others   by  name,   and  if  so, 
whose  names  you  heard  called  ? 
:■  A.  I  heard  Dr.  Kicksey's  name  called. 

Q.  State  whether  you  heard  any  other  name  called? 

A.  I  heard  Jim  Harber's  name  called. 

Q.  Any  other? 

A.  I  heard  Henrv  Hennis'  name  called. 


Q 


ETOWAH.  41" 


QUESTIONS    BY     THE    COURT. 

Q.   Did  any  one  go  as  captain  of  the  party  ? 

A.  T  would  not  swear  to  it,  but  T  think  it  was  Captain  La- 
tan  e. 

Q.  What  were  your  reasons  for  assisting  in  killing  Wash- 
burn ? 

A.  Because  T  thought  he  was  a  tyrant  to  the  place,  and 
ought  to  be  got  out  of  the  way. 

If  the  testimony  of  these  witnesses  could  not  be  success- 
fully rebutted,  the  fate  of  the  prisoners  was  sealed. 

As  Barnuni  read  in  the  Washington  papers  the  testimony 
above  given,  he  asked  himself: 

''  What  can  the  ablest  legal  talent  avail  against  a  military 
tribunal  armed  with  despotic  power  ?" 

But  the  soldiers  of  the  army  stationed  in  this  State,  and 
even  tlie  members  of  the  Military  Commission,  seemed  to 
secretly  hope  for  their  acquittal. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

NOSTALGIA. 

Again  Colonel  Barnum  visited  the  church  in  Xew  Orleans 
which  Julia  Bearing  attended,  and  again  his  eyes  were  re- 
warded by  a  vision  of  the  woman  whom  he  loved  more  than  all 
else.  She  w^as  changed  :  she  seemed  sadder  and  paler  than  he 
had  ever  seen  her.  His  absence  and  silence  for  nearly  two 
months  had  convinced  her  that  his  love  was  only  sympathy 
after  all.  Then  she  realized  in  her  own  heart  what  life  was 
without  some  one  near  whom  she  could  love  with  all  the  de- 
votion of  her  nature.  Her  retired  life  and  self-imposed  seclu- 
sion debarred  her  from  reading  the  newspapers,  and  hence 
th-^  imprisonment  and  trial  of  her  friends  had  escaped  her. 
Emile  LaGrange  was  now  the  inmate  of  an  inebriate  asy- 
lum at  the  Xorth,  and  it  was  only  through  her  little  pupils 
that  she  occisionally  s:iw  the  papers  which  they  would  bring 
to  her  to  explain  some  picture  to  them.  Mrs.  LaGrange,  with 
a  foulish  mother's  prejudice,  laid  Emily's  ruin  to  hf-r  conduct, 
and  made  herself  as  disagreeable  as  she  dared.  She  knew  if 
she  went  too  far  Julia  would  leave. 

The  day  before  the  Sunday  which  found  Barnum  again  in 
church  looking  for  her,  little  Marie  had  brought  her  a  copy 
of  the  "Picayune,"  w^hich  contained  a  glowing  eulogy  of  Colo- 
nel Barnum  for  his  efforts  in  behalf  of  the  prisoners.  Then 
f'llowed  a  sketch  of  the  imprisonment  and  trial  of  the 
prisoners,  giving  the  names  in  full.  The  readei'  can  imagine 
tlie  feelings  of  the  lonely,  home-sick  girl.  What  would  her 
uncle  and  Clara,  what  would  Barnum  think  of  her  apparent 


ETOWAH.  415 

disregard  for  their  sufferings   and  that  of  the  dear  ones  who 
had  suffered    such  terrible  imprisonment?     "It  is  too  late 
now/'  she  said,  "writing  will  do  no  good ;  and  how  can  I  ex- 
plain my  ignorance  of  an  affair  which  has  aroused  the  inde- 
pendent press  throughout  the  country?*'     She  did  not  write. 
A  new  lite  would  have  to  bless   her  solitary  heart— a  change 
come  over  the  spirit  of  her   dream,   a  change  like  that  por- 
trayed in  the  Scandinavian  Edda — before  the  rosy  flush,  the 
bright,  flashing  eye,  the  light,    silvery  laugh,  can  again  dis- 
tinguish Julia  Bearing  so  peerlessly  above  her  fellows.     She 
who  had  no  home  was  dreadfully  homesick.     She  had  passed 
the  French  Opera  House  on  Bourbon  street,  where  the  Cre- 
oles supported  Italian  Opera,  with  the  lavish  magnificence  of 
Parisians  themselves,  and  where,  as  a  child,  she  had  spent 
many  a  delightful  evening,  and  she  felt  the   desolation  of 
lonlinessl     The  costly  dresses  of  wealthy  parvenus   seemed 
to  her  fevered  imagination  to  scorn  her  plain  black  dress  as 
they  swept  past;  thu  proud  faces  of  the  Bourgeoisie  to  glance 
with  condescension  from   their  luxurious  carriages,  and  all 
the  ladies  on  the  streets  to   criticise  and  comment  upon  her 
dress,  for  what  woman  can  walk  a  thronged  and  fashionable 
street  without  indulging  this    feminme  penchant  1     Atihe 
church  she  essayed,  time  and  again,  to  join  in  singing  the 
hymns,  and  as  often  failed.     She  had  never  seemed  so  lonely, 
so  little  like  thanking  her  Creator,    as  she  did  when  in  the 
midst  of  that  assemblage  at  the  church.     Mrs.  LaGrange  ling- 
ered to  see  her  "dear  pastor"  and  thank  him  for  the  sermon. 
"My  dear  Mr.  F.,  it  was  -so  satisfactory  to  my  soul,"  she  said. 

"You  are  very  kind  and  complimentary,  Mrs  LaGrange  ;  I 
wish  all  my  congregation  were  as  pious  as  you  are.  It  is  a 
great  cjmtort  to  a  minister  to  have  the  praise  of  his  flock." 

"My  dear  Mr.  F.,"  she  continued,  "I  have  been  wishing  to 


416  ETOWAH. 

ask  your  opinion  about  a  matter  very  near  to  my  conscience. 
I  went  last  week  to  hear  the  notorious  'Pagan  Prince,'  as  the 
p:ipers  called   him.     The  horrid   atheist   asserted  that   the 
manna,  rained  down  to  feed  the  chosen  people  in  the  desert, 
sprouted  and  ever  since    ihea  grows  about  there  under  the 
name  of  gum-arabic !     The  blasphemous  sinner  also  said  that 
'quails  migrate  from  the  European  Continent  every   winter 
and  light  on  the  shores  of  Egypt,  so  fat   and  tired  from  two 
days'  flight  that  they  fell  on  the  ground  and  were  captured 
in  nets  and  were  knocked  over  with   sticks  by  the  Egyp- 
tians.    What  do  you  think  should  be  done  with  him,  Mr. 
F.  ?     With  a  shameless   sarcasm  he  averred  that  the  quails, 
having  fallen  into  the  habit  of  being  sent  in  flocks  to  feed  a 
mob  of  runaway  Jew  laborer.-^,   come  regularly  every  year. 
In  his  lecture  on  miracles  the  blasphemous  man  alluded  to 
two  of  the  most  touching  episodes  in  history  as  follows  :     'It 
is  barely  possible  that  Moses,  having  been  brought  up   in 
Egypt  and  being  a  bright,  intelligent  fellow,  had  noticed  this 
customary  migration  of  birds  and  played  it  ofi'on  the  igno- 
rant peasantry  he  commanded,  as  he  did  the  Red  Sea  epi- 
sode.    He  knew  where  it  was  fordable,  as  we  all  know  now, 
and  walked  his  henchmen  over.     Pharaoh  rode   heedlessly 
in  pursuit  with  chariots  and  camel  trains  and  drowned  a  lot 
of  them.     I  declare,"   said  the  indignant  lady,  ''I  think  he 
ought  to  be  arrested  for  his  sacrilegious  utterances !" 

"No,  my  dear  Madame,  that  would  make  matters  worse. 
Voltaire  has  said  everything  which  he  now  says  and  in  far 
better  style.  His  chief  hero,  Tom  Payne,  died  a  miserable 
drunkard's  death.  The  real  foes  to  Christianity,  mo.^t  to  be 
dreaded,  are  the  ministers  who  make  of  the  pulpit  a  political 
forum,  and  there  are  some  who  even  contend  that  there  ig 
no  hell.     Let  us  go  on  in  the  even  tenor  of  our  way  and  all 


ETOWAH.  417 

•will  be  well  for  us.  As  to  the  Tagan  Prince  :'  'Ephraim 
is  wedded  to  her  idols ;  let  her    alone.'  " 

Mrs.  LaGrange,  like  a  great  many  other  self-sufficient,  de- 
Tout  women,  believed  implicitly  that  her  pastor  was  the  sum 
•of  all  physical  and  intellectual  perfection.  Upon  all  sub- 
jects, whether  statecraft,  war,  morals,  or  religion,  she  believed 
.his  opinions  to  be  as  infallible  as  Catholics  do  those  of  the 
Pope.  Hence,  when  he  told  her  he  would  answer  the  ''Pa- 
gan Prince"  by  preaching  on  ^'miracles"  the  following  Sab- 
bath, she  was  happy.  "Now,"  she  said  to  herself,  "the  horrid 
atheist  will  be  crushed  so  decidedly  that  he  will  keep  his 
peace  ever  after." 

Meanwhile,  Barnum  had  improved  the  opportunity  thus 
afforded  him  to  seek  Julia  and  make  himself  known  to  her. 
He  was  dressed  like  a  civilian,  in  black  cloth,  faultless  in 
style  and  fit,  and  Julia  thought  him  handsomer  and  more 
distinguished  looking  than  she  had  ever  seen  him  when 
(dressed  in  uniform.  He  met  her  as  quietly  and  naturally 
as  if  he  had  parted  with  her  the  day  before,  and  walked 
.home  with  her.  Julia  permitted  the  little  girls  to  run  on 
lahead  of  them,  which  would  have  shocked  their  orthodox 
mama  had  she  known  it. 

"  Miss  Julia,  I  am  delighted  to  see  you ;  may  I  accompany 
you  to  your  residence?" 

"Certainly,  Colonel  Barnum.  I  am  equally  glad  to  meet 
you.  I  received  your  note ;  it  was  very  kind  of  you  to  come 
so  far  to  see  me.  But  let  us  talk  of  others;  how  did  you 
leave  Clara,  and  Captain  Latane,  and  other  friends?" 

"  They  were  all  well  when  I  heard  last  from  them.  I  oame 
■direct  from  Washington,  not  wishing  to  linger,  but  I  did  not 
leave  until  assured  that  the  prisoners  will  be  released.     Oh  l 

27 


418  ETOWAH. 

Miss  Julia,  you  don't,  know  what  good  friends  you  have  left^ 
They  were  going  in  search  of  you,  had  I  not  informed  them 
that  I  had  ah-eady  found  you." 

Barnum  really  still  felt  very  apprehensive  about  their 
fate,  for  the  death  of  Mrs.  Surratt  seemed  still  a  nightmare  to 
him,  but  he  did  not  wish  to  add  to  the  burdens  which  Julia 
had  already  borne.  The  tears  came  into  Julia's  eye^  in  spite 
of  her  efforts  to  repress  them. 

"But  I  cannot  return,"  she  said;  "it  would  break  my 
heart  to  go  to  my  old  home  now ;  and,  besides,  my  contract 
with  Mrs.  LaGrange  does  not  expire  until  the  end  of  the 
year.  I  beg  that  you  say  nothing  to  my  uncle,  except  that 
I  prefer  to  remain  here  until  my  object  is  accomplished.  He 
knows  how  deeply  grateful  I  am  to  him." 

He  had  no  words  of  blame  or  commiseration  for  her; 
nothing  but  admiration  for  her  noble  determination  to  for- 
get the  life  of  plenty,  luxury  and  elegance  to  which  she  had 
been  accustomed  all  her  life  in  order  to  earn  her  own  living. 

"  You  are  to  go  back  with  me,  Miss  Julia ;  either  to  my 
home  or  to  yours.  I  love  you  infinitely  more  for  the  nol:)le 
efforts  you  have  made,  and  I  shall  never  love  another.  I 
can  hardly  expect  you  to  marry  a  plain,  unpretending  man 
like  myself,  but  you  must  lead  this  life  no  longer." 

"  Let  us  talk  of  yourself  a  little,"  she  replied.  "I  read  of 
your  noble  efforts  in  defence  of  the  prisoners;  the  praise 
with  which  the  papers  allude  to  your  name  must  give  you 
well-deserved  happiness;  it  made  me  happy." 

"  That  last  sentence  is  worth  more  to  me.  Miss  Julia,  than 
the  praise  of  every  paper  in  the  United  States.  I  would 
rather  feel  that  I  had  done  something  worthy  your 
approval  than  to  pluck  the  proudest  chaplet  from  Fame's 
temple." 


ETOWAH. 


419 


*'  If  you  value  my  friendship  or  good  opinion  so  highly, 
permit  me  to  add  that  your  conduct  in  the  past  few  months 
does  you  infinitely  greater  honor  than  would  any  official 
prominence." 

This  was  said  in  an  earnest,  sincere  tone  which  carried 
conviction  with  it,  and  his  eyes  showed  his  profound  appre- 
ciation of  her  words.  After  a  few  moment's  silence,  during 
which  time  they  had  neared  the  mansion  where  Mrs.  La- 
Grange  resided,  Barnum,  opening  the  gate,  extended  his  hand 
to  her  and  said:  "Miss  Julia,  I  am  satisfied  that  you  know 
me  too  well  not  to  understand  that  I  have  come  to  New  Or- 
leans with  no  idle  purpose.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to 
repeat  that  my  happiness,  as  far  as  an  absorbing  love  can 
make  happiness,  is  dependent  upon  your  reciprocating  my 
attachment.  So  long  as  I  thought  you  were  wealthy,  I  did 
not  feel  at  liberty  to  propose  marriage  to  you,  even  if  you 
returned  my  love,  until  I  had  demonstrated  to  myself  at  least, 
my  ability  to  take  care  of  you  as  my  wife  must  be  cared  for. 
Now  our  positions  are  reversed,  and  I  am  able  to  provide  for 
you  better  than  you  can  aid  yourself,  and  I  hope  soon  to  acquire 
distinction,  if  not  wealth.  But  unless  your  heart  can  come- 
to  me  with  your  hand,  I  will  not  ask  you  to  marry  me,  andl 
I  can  hardly  hope  that  you  will  sacrifice  yourself  for  my 
happiness.  Let  us,  therefore,  bid  each  other  farewell  forever, 
for  I  can't  live  near  you  happily  unless  I  can  hope  to  win 
you.  But,  come  what  may,  my  heart  is,  and  will  ever  be 
solely  given  to  you." 

She  did  not  reply  immediately,  and  he  still  held  ber 
trembling  hand  in  his.  Looking  down  with  that  undefined 
and  indefinable  modesty  which  was  peculiarly  her  own,  she 
said : 

''Will  you  not  come  in,  Colonel  Barnum  ?" 


420  ETOWAH. 

''If  to  decline  means  to  give  up  all  hope  of  winning  you 
forever,  and  to  accept  means  that  to  the  best  of  your  knowledge 
your  heart  can  be  safely  and  freely  entrusted  in  my  keeping, 
would  you  bid  me  to  decline  or  accept  your  invitation  ? 
Miss  Julia,  I  appeal  to  your  better  nature,  do  you  not  think 
it  best  that  this  moment  shall  determine  whether  you  are  to 
be  all  or  nothing  to  me  ?" 

"I  hope  you  will  not  refuse  my  request.  I  would  like  to 
talk  more  freely  with  you— particularly  with  regard  to  those 
who  are  so  dear  to  us  both.  I  do  not  think  there  is  any 
occasion  for  so  long  a  separation  as  you  propose,  and  hope 
that  I  have  said  nothing  to  wound  the  feelings  of  one  whom 
I  esteem  as  highly  as  I  do  any  one  in  the  world." 

"  'Esteem,'  "  seems  a  cold,  formal,  hollow  word  to  me  now ; 
my  love  is  selfish,  exacting,  all-absorbing,  and  I  must  have 
yours  as  completely  as  I  have  given  mine  unreservedly  to 
you.     Give  me  your  answer  now,  once  for  all  time  to  come." 

Her  old  pride  and  haughtiness  returned  when  she  heard 
the  firm  tone  say,  "I  must  have  yours  now,"  and  then  she 
saw  his  determined  look.  Extending:  her  hand,  she  said, 
^'Good-bye,  Colonel  Barnum,  if  you  will  not  come  in." 

"Then  farewell.  Miss  Julia;  it  is  better  that  I  should  not 
remain  near  you  if  you  cannot  love  me.  It  is  not  your 
fault,  but  my  misfortune.  I  will  endeavor  to  go  so  far  that 
I  will  not  be  able  to  annoy  you  with  my  reiterated  profes- 
sions henceforth.  But  it  matters  not  how  far  distant  I  may 
be,  I  can  never  forget  how  dear  you  have  been,  how  dear  you 
are  to  me !" 

Julia  had  given  him  her  hand,  as  he  extended  his,  and 
her  timid  heart  struggled  in  vain  for  utterance.  She  longed 
to  tell  him  all— to  tell  him  that  he  alone  could  fill  her  yearn- 
ing heart,  which  now  longed  for  that  caressing,  which,  since 


ETOWAH.  421 

her  father's  death,  she  had  so  sadly  missed.  Here  stood  the 
man  whom  she  admired,  trusted,  loved  above  all  other  men, 
and  yet  his  words,  sounding  so  like  an  ultimatum,  a  dicta- 
tion, forbade  her  saying  what  she  so  longed  to  say.  She  tried 
to  look  up,  bat  could  not.  He  bent  down  and  passionately 
kissed  the  hand  which  he  held  in  his— once,  twice, 
thrice — "Good-bye,  my  darling ;  I  shall  never  love  another  1" 
The  long,  appealing  look,  the  fervent,  trembling  clasp  of  the 
hand,  the  passionate  kisses  were  over,  and  the  tall  form  of 
Colonel  Barnum  strode  quickly  from  her  sight. 

She  tried  to  call  to  him,  but  her  tongue  refused  its  office; 
she  tried  to  follow,  but  her  feet  seemed  glued  to  the  earth 
where  she  stood  !  And  it  was  not  until  his  form  was  lost 
among  the  throngs  which  crowded  the  side-walk  that  na- 
ture asserted  her  rights,  and  tears  cime  to  her  relief — tears 
that  rushed  aflood,  and  gave  to  her  footsteps  motion  at  last; 
tears  that  were  from  her  heart,  as  if  they  possessed  the  talis- 
man to  touch  the  silent  chords  of  grief  and  wake  them  to 
sorrow  !  She  threw  herself  on  a  sofa  in  the  parlor  and  gave 
way  to  her  tears.  "Oh  !  why  could  I  not  tell  him  ?  Why 
could  he  not  see  all  he  wished  and  more — the  love  of  a  friend* 
less  orphan  is  his  and  his  alone !"  Such  were  the  thoughts 
of  the  young  governess,  who  was  passing  through  the  seve- 
rest ordeal  a  woman's  heart  can  know. 

How  long  she  might  have  rv^mained  thus  it  is  impossible 
to  say,  but  certain  it  is  that  she  was  suddenly  brought  to 
realize  her  dependent  position  and  the  practical  realities  ol 
life,  in  a  most  unceremonious  way.  Perhaps  it  was  the  best 
thing  that  could  have  happened,  if  it  is  best  to  drive  away 
all  thoughts  of  love  from  such  a  heart  as  Julia  Dearing's. 

Mrs.  LaGrange  entered,  puffing  like  a  steam  engine,  her 
fat  face  showing  as  plainly  her  disapproval  of  "all   this"  as 


422  ETOWAH. 

a  black  cloud  foretells  a  storm.  The  darkened  room  made 
every  object  indistinct,  but  she  had  seen  enough  to  give  her 
a  just  pretext  for  delivering  a  lecture— such  as  small  minds 
with  big  hates  delight  in. 

"  Miss  Dearing,  permit  me  to  ask,  where  are  the  children  ? 
I  do  believe  you  permitted  them  to  walk  by  themselves — I 
do  believe  they  are  playing,  actually  playing  with  hoops 
on  the  street !  and  this  is  the  holy  Sabbath  day  !  I  ought 
to  ask  your  pardon,  perhaps,  for  being  so  abrupt,  but  when  a 
mother's  feelings  about  their  safety  -  not  to  mention  their 
spiritual  welfare — are  aroused;  when  a  mother's  heart 
is  shocked  by  this  neglect  of  her  little  darlings  whom 
she  has  trustingly  confided  to  your  care,  what  can  she 
do?  What  ought  she  to  do?  Miss  Dearing,  for  all 
you  know,  the  horse-cars  may  have  crushed  their  lives  out! 
You  are  utterly  unworthy  of  trust!"  Then  the  female  Ve- 
suvius subsided,  exhibiting  a  few  spasmodic  eruptions  in 
the  shape  of  sobs  and  tears  manulactured  for  the  occasion. 
Then  the  fat  lady  fell  in  a  large  arm-chair  covering  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

Julia  had  risen  instantly,  and  with  ill-concealed  vexation 
had  listened  to  this  unnecessary  and  unmerited  tirade  until 
it  had  exhausted  itself  by  its  ver}'  incoherence.  Her  face 
was  an  interesting  stud3^  The  traces  of  tears  were  still  on 
her  cheeks  and  in  her  eyes,  but  hot,  indignant  blushes  over- 
came these.  Regr."ts  for  love  unspoken  gave  place  to  regrets 
that  she  had  subjected  herself  to  such  treatment  as  this. 
This,  in  turn,  ^delded  to  that  pride  which  all  her  life  had 
been  her  besetting  fault — the  stumbling-block  to  her  happi- 
ness. The  feeling  which  inspired  Hazael  to  say  :  "  Is  thy 
servant  a  dog,  that  he  should  do  this  thing?"  was  fully  ap- 
preciated by  Julia  Dearing  as  Mrs.  LaG range  concluded. 


ETOWAH.  423 

Pride  came  now  to  her  aid ;  she  would  not  let  her  know 
how  she  had  sufifered  in  heart ;  she  would  take  advantage  of 
this  opportunity  to  terminate  her  term  of  servitude.  But 
where  would  she  go  ? 

"Anywhere,  anywhere!"  she  murmured,  ''save  where  I 
am  treated  like  a  servant."  This  unconsciously  uttered  ex- 
clamation caused  Mrs.  LaGrange  to  remove  her  handkerchief 
and  look  at  Julia. 

The  face  which  now  met  her  gaze  was  neither  one  like  that 
•of  Judith  ready  to  revenge  herself,  nor  like  Cleopatra's  ready 
to  yield  to  despair;  as  beautiful  perhaps  as  either,  it  had  as- 
sumed a  pallor  unreal  and  startling;  now  that  all  these  suc- 
cessive phases  of  thought  and  feeling  had  blighted  the  poor 
girl's  heart  like  a  sirocco. 

"Julia,  what  is  the  matter,  are  you  crazy?" 

This  was  said  in  a  frightened  voice  as  Mrs.  LaGrange  saw 
this  strange  expression  which  resolved  itself  into  a  stony 
stare.  The  woman  in  her  heart  was  at  last  moved,  and  Mrs. 
LaGrange  with  remorseful  feeling  attempted  to  undo  what 
she  had  done,  for  she  was  not  as  malicious  as  she  seemed. 
Her  question  was  the  most  unfortunate  one  which  she  could 
have  uttered. 

"Are  you  mad,  my  dear?" 

Julia  Dearing  advanced  toward  her  and,  with  eyes  blazing 
with  unnatural  light,  exclaimed  : 

"Mrs.  LaGrange,  I  believe  I  am !  I  must  leave  now.  I 
have  remained  here  too  long!" 

The  searing  iron  of  despair  had  entered  her  soul,  and 
seemed  fast  approaching  the  citadel  of  reason.  Already  her 
mind  seemed  paralyzed.  The  elder  lady  was  completely  over- 
'Come  by  conflicting  emotions;  pride,  affection,  selfishness 
^nd  with  it  remorse  for  the  many  cruel  stabs  at  this  proud, 


424  ETOWAH. 

dependent,  suffering  girl;  this  imperial  soul  imprisoned  in; 
the  vocation  of  a  governess,  all  struggled  for  the  masterjr. 
The  figure  before  her  seemed  the  impersonation  of  sorrowing- 
despair,  the  twin-sister  of  Nemesis,  taking  the  surest  revenge 
by  standing  as  a  victim  face  to  face  with  the  oppressor. 
But  ah !  "a  touch  of  kindness  makes  all  the  world  kin,"  two 
little  voices  put  an  end  to  this  momentary  drama.  Running- 
in  the  parlor  with  their  aprons  full  of  flowers,  ignoring  their 
mother,  they  went  to  Julia,  and  one  of  them  extending  her 
apron  to  Julia  said,  almost  breathlessly: 

"1  got  here  fyst.  Miss  Julia !  and  you  must  have  my  flowers  ; 
I  pulled  'em  for  you  !" 

"I  trieded  to  get  here  fyst,  Miss  Julia,  and  if  you  don't 
take  my  flowers  you  don't  love  'ittle  girls  like  you  do  big 
girls  who  can  run  the  fastedest!"  and  the  little  child  shook 
her  fairy-like  head  almost  with  every  word  to  give  vehemence 
to  her  argument. 

The  stony  stare  faded  slowly  away,  and  her  eyes  slowly 
filled  with  tears,  as  the  mind,  touched  by  the  wand  of  affec- 
tion, returned  to  its  human  duty  and  the  girl  knelt  down, 
placed  her  arms  around  both  children  and  said  in  a  low  tone- 
full  of  earnestness  and  affection  : 

"My  dear,  sweet  little  darlings!  I'll  take  them  all,"  and 
then  she  turned  her  eyes  to  Mrs.  LaGrange  ^nd  said  :  'Suffer 
little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of 
such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 

The  mother's  heart  was  touched  as  it  had  never  been  be- 
fore. The  children  had  brought  her  no  flowers,  but  they 
were  her  children,  and  any  one  who  could  inspire  such  love 
as  this  was  too  good  to  be  spoken  to  as  she  had  spoken ;  to€>- 
kind  to  be  insulted  and  taunted  with  her  dependent  posi- 
tion. 


ETOWAH.  425> 

She  arose,  and  taking  Julia's  hand  in  her's,  kissed  gently 
her  forehead  and  said  :  ''  Julia,  forgive  me  !  You  have  made 
me  a  better  woman;  I  will  never  wound  your  feelings 
again."  The  head  of  the  kneeling  governess  sank  on  her 
breast,  and  for  the  first  time  in  so  long  a  time  Julia  Dearing 
felt  that  it  had  found  a  resting-place. 

The  flowers  were  strewn  about  the  floor ;  Mrs.  LaGrange- 
was  kneeling  beside  her  chafing  her  hands  as  she  reclined 
upon  the  sofa;  the  two  little  girls  were  caressing  her  face, 
and  often  kissing  her,  as  she  lay  there  in  a  semi-conscious 
state.  The  doctor,  who  had  been  summoned  by  Mrs.  La-r 
Grange,  now  entered  softly,  and  drew  a  chair  beside  the^ 
patient,  and  felt  her  pulse  time  and  again. 

Julia  seemed  unconscious  of  his  presence,  and  now  and 
then  she  would  smile  and  move  her  lips,  as  if  speaking  in— 
audibly  to  some  invisible  person  whose  near  presence  made 
her  happy. 

Then  she  seemed  in  slumber,  but  her  eyes  did  not  close. 

A  bed  was  placed  in  the  parlor,  for  she  was  too  ill  to  be 
removed  to  her  room,  which  was,  besides,  a  dreary  apartment 
away  from  the  other  occupied  rooms  and  looking  into  the 
court. 

Days  succeeded  days,  and  weeks  followed,  and  still  the 
invalid  was  confined  to  her  bed  and  seemed  unconscious  of 
her  condition.  Nor  did  she  taste  food  during  this  long  in-^ 
terval. 

Meanwhile,  the  untiring  devotion  and  tenderness  of  Mrs. 
LaGrange  never  ceased,  and  surprised  all  her  acquaintances; 
Her  motherly  affection  seemed  transferred  from  the  absent;* 
Emile  to  the  present  Julia. 

Her  features,  like  her  voice,  had  softened,  and,  though  her 
hair  around  the  temples  had  assumed  a  silvery  hue,  it  made 


426  ETOWAH. 

her  countenance  infinitely  more  attractive  than  it  had  ever 
been.  She  now  seemed  a  devoted,  amiable,  lovely,  self-sac- 
rificing mother,  whose  chief  aim  in  life  was  to  restore  this 
motherless  girl  to  health  and  happiness.  The  girl  whom  she 
had  charged  with  being  the  author  of  Emile's  ruin  she  now 
loved  with  a  love  too  untiring  not  to  be  enduring ;  and  this 
had  changed  her  into  a  womanly  woman,  as  patient  as  she 
had  formerly  been  captious  and  impatient. 

Formerly  she  had  been  but  a  petted  child  of  fortune,  al- 
though the  mother  of  an  adult  son  ;  formerly  she  had  been 
ever  attentive  to  the  outward  observance  of  religion  and 
etiquette,  and  a  constant  attendant  at  church ;  now  she  was 
far  more  than  that — although  she  had  not  entered  a  church 
or  spoken  to  her  pastor  since  that  eventful  day — she  was  a 
'Christian.  To  be  a  Christian  truly  is  to  resemble  Christ. 
Mrs.  LaGrange  was  in  these  days  of  trial  Christ-like,  and  the 
pallid  but  beautiful  patient  was  angel-like.  A  smile  from 
her  now  was  ample  reward  for  Mrs.  LaGrange's  sleepless 
nights  and  days  of  watchful  care.  Once  more  slie  saw  the 
lips  move  and  heard  them  faintly  utter,  as  if  speaking  to  an 
angel,  the  words,  "  Faith,  hope,  charity,  but  the  greatest  of 
these  is  charity,"  and  these  words  were  followed  by  a  smile 
from  the  lips  that  uttered  them  which  expressed  more  than 
the  words  themselves.  Mrs.  LaGrange  had  read  the  words  a 
thousand  times ;  she  had  never  Jelt  them  until  then.  She  said 
to  herself:  "  What  a  mystery,  after  all,  is  the  human  heart! 
I,  who  have  ever  considered  life  a  theatre  for  pleasure,  where 
men  and  women  act  their  parts  in  a  comedy,  or  lead  a  but- 
*  terfly  existence,  now  see  life  as  it  is. 

"  Life,  in  its  highest  essence,  is  charity;  without  charity, 
life  is  despair !  Despair  in  life  means  melancholia  or  mania, 
and  these  mean  death  in  life,  or  a  precursor  to  this  lifeless 


ETOWAH.  427 

ilife  which  is  so  still  and  yet  so  beautiful;  so  silent,  yet  so 
eloquent  with  that  placid  look  which  the  pure  in  heart  only 
can  have;  so  sweet  that  it  has  instructed  me  how  to  be 
happy,  better,  far  better,  than  long  years  of  penitential  piety. 
'  No  frowns,  no  sighs,  no  moans,  no  griefs,  are  pictured  on 
this  sweet  young  face,'  nor  are  these,  any  one  of  these,  essential 
to  goodness,  or  she  would  have  them.  The  best,  the  sweetest 
■  child  I  ever  knew  !  "  Thus  thought  Mrs.  LaGrange  as  she 
bent  down  and  gently  kissed  the  brow  of  the  fair  young 
sleeper. 

"  Mother !  "  exclaimed  Julia,  as  if  awaking  from  a  sweet, 
long  slumber.  "  Mother !  "  as  a  little  child  might  have  said 
"  mother."  She  took  Mrs.  LaG range's  face  in  her  two  thin, 
white  hands,  and  pulling  it  down  to  her,  kissed  it  affection- 
ately, and  said  :  ''  I  thought  you  were  my  mother  in  heaven, 
Mrs.  LaGrange,  but  you  are  my  mother  on  earth,  and  I  love 
you  for  your  kindness.  Don't  tell  me  about  it;  I  have 
dreamed  it  all,  and  I  know  you  love  me." 

"  Yes,  my  darling  child  !  Julia,  I  love  you  as  dearly  as  any 
mother  ever  loved  her  child.  Call  me  mother— let  me  be  your 
mother,  and  I  will  be  happier  than  I  have  ever  been." 

"  Mother !  "  The  invalid  smiled  again,  closed  her  eyes  for 
the  first  time,  and  sank  into  a  gentle  slumber,  such  as  the 
very  feeble  sleep. 

The  tears  were  streaming  from  Mrs.  LaGrange's  face,  as  she 
knelt  by  the  side  of  that  bed  and  prayed  that  Julia's  life  might 
be  spared. 

The  very  well-springs  of  her  being  seemed  now  touched,  and 

:  she  was  full  of  love  and  tenderness,  and   anxiety  for  the 

motherless  orphan  whom  she  felt  was  about   to  be  taken 

ifrom  her  forever,  before  she  could  win  the  forgiveness  of  her 


428  ETOWAH. 

own  heart  for  the  trials  to  which  she  had  been  subjecting: 
this  friendless  girl. 

Julia  now  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  was  her  guardian  angel, 
and  she  feared  that  she  would  lose  all  her  new  happiness,  if 
she  who  had  taught  her  how  to  be  noble  were  to  pass  thus 
sweetly  away. 

Meanwhile,  the  twentieth  day  of  the  trial  of  the  Etowah 
prisoners  found  the  barracks  court-room  crowded  to  suffo- 
cation. The  testimony  had  nearly  all  been  of  an  indecisive 
character,  but  nothing  that  would  establish  the  absolute 
innocence  of  the  prisoners  had  been  elicited  from  the  wit- 
nesses for  the  prosecution,  to  whom  precedence  had  beea 
given. 

In  civil  law,  the  condemned  may  be  reprieved  by  the- 
Executive ;  and  sometimes,  in  exceptional  cases,  Executive 
clemency  grants  a  full  pardon.  In  military  law,  there  is 
no  right  of  appeal  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State,  or  of 
the  United  States;  and  the  law  is  summarily  executed  by 
a  platoon  of  soldiers,  who  send  the  souls  of  the  condemned 
into  the  illimitable  future  at  the  crack  of  the  musket. 

Now,  a  living  soul,  full  of  all  the  tenderest  emotions  and 
the  noblest  aspirations  to  round  up  one's  life-work  with 
some  noble  performance,  the  thousand  blood-channels  full 
of  life-blood  coursing  at  every  pulsation  through  the  arteries ; 
then  suddenly,  this  glorious  temple  of  humanity  but  a 
moment  before,  lies  prone  in  the  dust  perforated  with  bullets, 
a  lifeless  corpse !  And  yonder  soldiers  lean  on  their  mus- 
kets, which  sent  forth  their  deadly  missiles  at  the  command, 
*'Fire !"  and  weep. 

Such  seemed  the  doom  awaiting  the  unhappy  Etowak 
prisoners. 


ETOWAH.  429 

Hair,  that  was  black  a  month  ago,  is  now  streaked  with, 
■grey;  they  have  lived  twenty  years  in  twenty  days. 

The  court-room  is  crowded,  though  the  day  is  a  sultry  July 
dav,  and  nine-tenths  of  the  audience  are  ladies — not  women 
merely,  but  gentlewomen — for  these  daughters  of  the  Con- 
federacy, who  faced  that  dreadful  ordeal  that  day  when 
the  witnesses  for  the  defence  were  to  be  placed  upon  the 
stand,  were  gentle-mannered  and  gentle-born. 

About  each  of  the  prisoners  was  the  aroma  of  fresh  flowers ; 
behind  them,  an  array  of  faces  that  indicated  a  sympathy 
wide  as  is  humanity. 

Against  the  gentlemen  composing  the  Military  Commis- 
sion the  prisoners  felt  no  animosity ;  they  felt  as  did  Ney 
when  his  own  soldiers  slew  their  commancjer  at  his  own 
command.  They  knew  that  not  one  of  those  officers  felt 
any  malice  to  them,  and  they  appreciated  that  each  one 
reluctantly  performed  the  saddest  duty  of  his  life. 

The  prisoners  seemed  to  have  lost  hope  in  any  just  ter- 
mination, as  they  noted  the  character  of  the  witnesses  sum- 
moned against  them,  and  the  tenor  of  their  testimony. 

They  wondered  at  the  delay  in  introducing  the  witnesses 
for  the  defence  ;  and  they  wondered  still  more  at  the  cordial 
manner  in  which  the  leading  counsel  for  the  defence  greeted 
the  prosecuting  attorney. 

But  now  their  hopes  are  revived,  as  the  witness  for  the 
defence  takes  the  stand  and  is  examined  by   their  counsel. 

EXAMINATION    BY   THE    LEADING    COUNSEL  FOR  THE  DEFENCE. 

Dr.  Clifford  A.  Wales  was  introduced  as  a  witness  by  the 
defence  and  was  duly  sworn,  and  testified  as  follows : 

Q.  Doctor,  please  give  the  court  your  name  in  full — Chris- 
1,ian  name  and  all  to  the  court  ? 


430  ETOWAH. 

A.  Clifford  A.  Wales. 

Q.  Are  you  a  brother  of  the  Hon.  William  H.  Wales,  U.  S 
minister  to  Austria   some  time  ago,  and  of  the  Rev.   Dr.. 
Joseph  C.  Wales,  of  Richmond,  Virginia? 

A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Where  do  you  reside  now,  Doctor? 

A.  In  Marshall  county. 

Q.  This  State? 

A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.   What  is  your  profession  ? 

A.  Physician. 

Q,  Do  you  know  William  Luke? 

A.  1  do. 

Q.  Do  you  see  him  in  this  row  of  prisoners  ? 

A.  I  do. 

Q.  Will  you  point  him  out  to  the  court? 

A.  I  will.     (Witness  points  out  Mr.  Luke,  the  accused.) 

Q.  How  far  do  you  reside  from  his  father's. 

A.  About  three  miles. 

Q.  Did  you  see  him  at  his  father's  at  any  time  during  the 
latter  part  of  March  of  this  year? 

A.  I  did. 

Q.  What  was  the  day  of  the  week  and  of  the  month,  and 
state  the  circumstances  where  you  saw  him  ? 

A.  It  was  on  Monday,  the  30th  of  March,  at  his  father's 
workshop,  about  forty  miles  east  of  north  of  Etowah. 

(There  was  a  sensation  in  the  audience  as  this  alibi  was 
proved,  for  there  was  no  way  to  go  thence  to  Etowah  except 
by  wagon-road.) 

Q.  What  time  in  the  evening  ? 

A.  Between  five  and  six  o'clock. 


ETOWAH.  431 

Q.  Had  your  attention  been  called  specially  to  the  time 
on  which  you  saw  him? 
A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Do  you  recollect  when  Mr.  Washburn  was  assassinated?' 
A.  I  do,  sir. 

Q.  Do  you  recollect  where  you  were  when  you  first  heard 
of  it? 
A.  I  do. 

Q.  Where  were  you  ? 
A.  In  Luke's  workshop. 

Q.  Was  Mr.  Luke,  the  accused,  present  at  the  time  youi 
heard  the  news? 

A.  He  was. 

The  witness  then  retired,  and  the  Mayor  of  the  city  of 
Etowah  was  placed  upon  the  witness  stand,  and  he  thus  tes- 
tified as  to  the  character  of  three  important  witnesses  for  the 
prosecution. 

CROSS-EXAMINED    BY    COUNSEL    FOR    THE    PROSECUTION. 

Q.  Are  you  acquainted  with  that  man,  Hannett,  whom 
you  say  you  saw  in  Washburn's  room  that  night  ? 
A.  I  know  him. 

Q.  Are  you  acquainted  with  his  general  character  for  truth 
and  veracity? 
A.  I  am. 

Q.  From  that  general  character  would  believe  him  on. 
oath? 

A.  I  would  not. 

Q.  Do  you  know  Wade  Cravens  ? 

A.  I  do. 

Q.  Do  you  know  his  character  for  truth  and  veracity? 
A.  I  do. 


432  ETOWAH. 

Q.  From  that  character  would  you  believe  him  on  his 
-oath? 

A.  I  would  not. 
'Q.  Do  you  know  George  Botz,  the  young  man? 

A.  I  do. 

Q.  Are  you  acquaioted  with  his  general  character  for  truth 
;  and  veracity  ? 

A.  I  am. 

Q    From  that  knowledge  would  you  believe  him  on  his 
.  oath  ? 

A.  I  would  not.  He  has  testified  that  he  fired  at  George 
Washburn,  and  that  the  inducement  ofiered  him  to  commit 
murder  was  one  hundred  dollars. 

Q.  How  long  have  you  known  George  Botz,  the  witness 
you  have  testified  about? 

A.  I  have  known  him  from  his  childhood,  I  might  say. 

Q.  Had  you  been  examined  under  oath  as  to  his  general 
character  prior  to  the  death  of  Washburn,  would  you  have 
sworn  that  you  would  not  believe  him  on  his  oath? 

A.  I  would. 

Q.  If  you  had  been  asked  on  your  oath  in  court,  prior  to 
the  death  of  Washburn,  would  you  have  answered  that  you 
would  not  believe  the  witness,  Cravens,  on  oath? 

A.  I  would. 

Q.  Why  would  you  have  made  that  answer? 

A.  From  his  associations  and  the  manner  in  which  he 
and  the  family  live.  His  associates  were  negroes  and  low 
white  people. 

Very  soon  after  the  rebutting  testimony  had  been  gone 

into,  it  became  evident  that  the  prisoners  could  not  be,  and 

ought  not  -to  be,  convicted.     The  evidence  for  the  defence 

•was  overwhelming  in  its  proofs  of  a  conspiracy  of  perjury 


ETOWAH.  433 

and  of  its  strong  suggestions  of  subornation  of  perjury.  It 
was  certain  that  Washburn  had  been  killed.  It  was  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  the  so-called  ku-klux  klan  had  killed 
him  ;  and  it  was  possible  that  some  of  the  guilty  parties  had 
been  arrested;  but  it  was  very  certain  that  among  the  pris- 
oners were  men  against  whom  no  reproach  of  any  kind  had 
ever  been  made,  and  who  were  as  guiltless  of  this  crime  as  a 
babe.  Justice  pardons  the  guilty  rather  than  punish  the  in- 
nocent; these  detectives  sought  to  punish  the  innocent  that 
they  niight  reach  the  guilty,  and  thus  earn  the  forty  thou- 
sand dollars  oflered  for  their  conviction. 

But  their  release  became  a  certainty  after  the  speech  of 
the  principal  counsel  for  the  defence. 

The  ex-Vice-President  of  the  Confederacy,  as  leading 
counsel  for  the  accused  arose  and  addressed  the  court.  Quot- 
ing the  fourteenth  amendment  which  had  just  been  ratified 
by  the  State  Legislature,  he  said : 

'*It  was  primarily  intended  to  guarantee  particularly  the 
rights  of  the  enfranchised  blacks,  but  it  also  provides  protec- 
tion for  the  white  citizens  of  this  country.  The  words  'due 
process  of  law,'  mean  a  great  deal,  and,  although  it  has  been 
held  by  this  military  commission  that  a  trial  without  indict- 
ment by  a  grand  jury  may  be  constitutional,  it  has  never 
been  intimated  that,  under  the  provisions  of  this  amend- 
ment, a  trial  by  petit  jury  can  be  dispensed  with.  'Due 
process  of  law'  means  a  trial  by  a  jury  of  one's  peer.^-.  We 
have  now  the  right  to  the  writ  to  be  heard  on  the  question 
whether  the  constitution  has  been  violated  in  order  to  com- 
pass the  conviction  of  these  men.  The  same  constitution 
covers  us  all.  *  I  know  no  anarchy  abroad  in  this  land 
which  the  American  people  need  fear,  except  anarchy  in  the 

28 


434  ETOWAH. 

administration  of  justice.  I  fear  that  anarchy  which  dons 
the  ermine  of  justice  and  administers  lynch  law  in  violation 
of  the  supreme  law  of  the  land." 

So  convincing  were  his  arguments,  and  so  overwhelming 
the  testimony  in  favor  the  prisoners,  that  the  Military  Com- 
mission was  speedily  adjourned  by  order  of  the  General  com- 
manding the  Department.  The  Judge  Advocate  announced 
the  next  day  that  he  had  no  further  business  to  bring  before 
the  Military  Commission,  and  stated  that  all  proceedings,  in 
the  trial  of  the  prisoners  charged  with  the  murder  of  Wash- 
burn, were  at  an  end.  The  prisoners  were  unconditional!}^ 
released. 

But  the  efifect  of  the  outrageous  treatment  to  which  Hall- 
back  had  been  subjected,  was  to  make  him  determined  to 
leave  no  stone  unturned  to  get  even  with  those  whom  he 
thought  were  his  persecutors.  He  resolved  to  expose  the 
thefts,  tyranies  and  impositions  practiced  by  the  agents  of 
the  Freedmea's  liureau,  under  the  administration  of  Potts 
Stunner  and  Hefflin,  even  if  it  antagonized  every  member 
of  his  race. 

Prudent  and  industrious  freedmen  rarely  called  upon  the 
Bureau  for  advice  and  assistance.  It  was  the  idle  and  worth- 
less who  looked  to  it  for  support,  and  the  aged  and  infirm 
who  were  formerly  supported  by  their  masters.  The  masses 
of  the  freedmen  had  an  idea  that  the  Bureau  possessed  some 
mysterious  power  to  serve  them,  and  if  they  failed  to  secure 
such  livelihood  as  they  desired,  they  fell  back  upon  it  with 
a  certainty  of  support.  They  also  regarded  the  existence  of 
the  Bureau  as  evidence  that  the  government  looked  upon 
the  white  people  of  the  South  as  their  enemies.  * 

The  first  matter  to  which  he  called  Barnum's  attention 
was  the  killing  of  a  freedman  by  an  employee  of  the  assis- 


ETOWAH.  !  435 

tant  commissioner  of  the  Freedmen's  Bureau,  Mr.  Wellinsr- 
ton  Napoleon  Potts,  whose  partner  was  the  Rev.  Horace 
Johns,  formerly  Quarter-Master  U.  S.  V.,  who  resided  on  the 
plantation  in  Pitt  county,  operated  on  their  joint  account, 
and  who  was  still  an  agent  of  the  Bureau  without  pay.  In 
proportion  to  the  increased  authority  given  to  Potts  by  his 
new  office,  bestowed  because  of  his  excessive  loyalty,  his 
natural  cupidity  came  to  the  surface  in  the  role  of  a  devel- 
oper. He  boldly  launched  into  operations  which  brought 
him  and  his  subordinates,  whom  he  was  careful  to  so  select 
that  they  might  become  silent  partners,  into  competition 
with  the  planters  and  others  who  were  employing  freedmen 
as  laborers.  They  thus  appropriated  and  controlled  the 
labor  of  freedmen  under  their  jurisdiction  to  advance  their 
private  interests.  Potts  had  become  interested  contrary  to 
the  law  establishing  the  Freedmen's  Bureau,  in  many  in- 
dustrial enterprises,  such  as  cultivating  plantations,  operat- 
ing saw-mills,  etc.,  etc.  The  trouble  was  that  his  '"silent 
partners"  did  not,  like  Stunner,  know  when  to  talk  and 
when  to  be  silent,  and  Hallback  had  little  difficulty  in  ac- 
quiring the  information.  Colonel  Barnum  related  his  per- 
sonal experiences  with  the  Assistant  Commissioner,  Potts, 
and  the  War  Department  sent  two  Federal  Generals  early 
the  next  year — for  official  methods  are  slow  to  materialize — 
to  investigate  the  truth  of  these  reports,  and  they  reported 
as  follows : 

''We  have  investigated  some  ol  the  charges  made  against 
the  agents  of  the  Bureau,  and  in  pursuing  our  inquiries  to 
this  point,  commenced  with  the  Assistant  Commissioner  of 
the  State,  Mr.  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts.  Mr.  Potts,  to 
whom  we  addressed  the  interrogatory :  "Do  you  know  of 
any  person  now  on  duty  with  the  Freedmen's  Bureau  in 


436  ETOWAH. 

this  Department,  who  is,  or  has  been  since  entering  upon 
the  duties  of  his  office,  engaged,  or  interested  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, in  the  cultivation  of  any  lands  within  this  Depart- 
ment?" 

He  answered  "No !"  Subsequently  he.addressed  us  a  note 
hereto  appended,  marked  "  A, ''in  which  he  stated,  that  in 
order  to  assist  the  planters  in  hiring  freedmen,  he  and  some 
other  officers  of  the  Bureau  had  loaned  money,  and  thus 
indirectly  had  an  interest  in  cultivating  plantations.  On 
receiving  this  note  we  addressed  Mr.  Potts  further  interroga- 
tories, a  copy  of  which  is  hereto  annexed,  marked  '  B,'  to 
which  he  replied  in  a  communication,  also  hereto  appended, 
marked  ''C,"  disclosing  the  fact  that  he  is  interested  with 
the  Rev.  Horace  Johns,  of  Massachusetts,  formerly  captain 
and  assistant  quarter  master  Freedmen's  Bureau,  and  with 
Mr.  Winthrop  Rappan,  of  Maine,  in  ihe  cultivation  of  a 
large  plantation  in  Etowah  county.  He  also  stated  therein 
that  he  was  interested  in  the  manner  before  mentioned  with 
Captain  F.  A.  Sheely,  superintend'^nt  for  the  Bureau  of  the 
eastern  district  in  Hogue  county,  and  with  Captain  Isaac 
Rosencrantz,  commissary  of  subsistence,  and  a  Mr.  Brooks 
in  Pitt  county,  in  the  cultivation  of  plantations  with  the 
labor  of  freedmen,  whom  he  supplies  with  rations  as  part  of 
ol  their  wages!  The  circumstances  under  which  a  freedman 
was  killed,  as  stated  bj^  Mr.  Johns  himself,  are  as  follows: 
The  freedman  was  accused  of  stealing  provisions  from  the 
store  of  Messrs.  Potts  and  Johns,  and  was  arrested,  tried  and 
convicted  by  Mr.  Johns,  as  agent  of  the  Bureau,  and  was  sen- 
tenced to  dig  ditches  on  their  plantation.  While  working 
out  his  sentence  he  ran  away  and  was  pursued  by  Johns' 
clerk,  Hoyden,  who  arrived  at  the  bank  of  a  river  while  the 
freedman  was  attempting  to  cross  in  a  canoe.     Hoyden  or- 


ETOWAH.  437 

dered  him  to  return,  telling  him  if  he  did  not  he  would 
shoot,  and  the  freedman  disregarding  this  order,  Hoyden 
fired.  Hoyden  states  himself  that  he  thinks  he  hit  him,  and 
a«  nothing  has  ever  been  heard  of  him  since,  it  is  generally 
believed  in  the  neighborhood  that  he  was  killed,  and  fell 
from  the  canoe  into  the  river.  These  facts  are  stated  in  a 
letter  forwarded  to  Mr.  Potts,  who  returned  it  to  Captain 
Sheeley,  with  the  following  indorsement  : 

''  Etowah,  Wednesday,  March  28. 

"Respectfully  returned.  As  the  affiiir  seems  to  have  oc- 
curred at  night,  and  as  the  body  of  the  negro  has  not  yet  been 
discovered,  it  does  not  appear  certain  that  the  shot  took  eflfect. 
No  lurther  action  in  the  case  seems  called  for. 

By  order  of  W.  N.  Potts,  Assistant  Commissioner." 

In  one  of  our  interviews  with  the  freedmen  at  Elowah, 
some  of  whom  had  been  employed  in  the  Commissary  De- 
partment of  the  Bureau,  they  stated  that  rations  in  bulk 
had  been  frequently  taken  from  the  supply  warehouse  at 
unusual  hours  before  the  doors  were  open  for  the  transac- 
tion of  business,  and  hauled  off  in  carts  and  wagons,  osten- 
sibly to  the  freedmen's  warehouse,  but  really  to  a  provision 
store  kept  by  a  man  who  furnished  supplies  for  the  planta- 
tion in  which  this  officer  was  interested,  and  with  which 
they  paid  the  wages  of  the  freedmen  employed  as  aforesaid. 

On  the  south  bank  of  the  Flint  river  there  is  a  settlement 
composed  exclusively  of  freedmen  and  containing  a  popula- 
tion of  about  four  thousand,  whose  condition  is  truly  de- 
plorable. These  unfortunate  people  came  within  our  lines 
aad  were  located  there  during  the  war.  They  are  living  in 
small  huts,  built  by  themselves,  of  lumber  manufactured  by 
hand.  These  huts  generally  contain  but  a  single  room, 
each  of  which  is  occupied  in   most  cases  by  large  families. 


438  ETOWAH. 

The  appearance  of  this  settlement,  recentl}'  scourged  by 
small-pox,  is  well  calculated  to  excite  the  deepest  sympathy 
for  the  helpless  condition  of  its  inhabitants.  The  decrepid 
and  helpless  among  them  are  supported  by  the  Government 
of  the  United  States,  and  the  remainder  procure  an  uncer- 
tain and  scanty  living  from  little  jobs,  from  fishing  with 
small  boats,  etc.  Rev.  Mr.  Stunner,  formerly  an  army  chap- 
lain, presides  over  this  colony  as  "Assistant  Superintendent 
of  the  Bureau  for  the  Flint  river  settlement."  This  agent 
has  exercised  the  most  arbitrary  and  despotic  power,  and 
practiced  unheard  of  cruelties  on  the  helpless  freedmen  un- 
der his  charge.  The  outrageous  conduct  of  this  man  was 
brought  to  our  attention  by  a  delegation  of  freedmen 
from  the  settlement,  who  called  upon  us  and  made  state- 
ments in  reference  to  his  oppressions  and  outrages  which 
we  could  scarcely  credit.  After  hearing  these  statements  we 
visited  the  settlement,  conversed  with  the  freedmen,  inves- 
tigated the  charge  against  this  man,  and  ascertained  that  he 
had  been  guilty  of  greater  wrongs  and  oppressions  than  had 
been  complained  of.  In  addition  to  the  testimony  of  the 
freedmen,  we  took  the  statements  of  four  intelligent  ladies 
from  the  North  who  were  teaching  school  in  this  settlement. 
Among  many  acts  of  cruelty  committed  by  Saperinten- 
dent  Stunner,  we  found  that  he  had,  in  two  instances,  sus- 
pended Ireedmen  with  cords  around  their  wrists,  with  their 
feet  not  touching  the  floor,  and  kept  them  in  this  position — 
in  one  case  four,  and  in  the  other  case  six  hours.  Also  that 
he  sentenced  a  freedman  to  an  imprisonment  of  three 
months  for  a  trivial  offence,  that  of  wrangling  with  his  wife. 
He  kept  another  man,  who  was  arrested  lor  debt,  shut  up  in 
the  block-house,  a  prison,  for  months,  while  his  wife  and 
children,  reduced  to  abject  destitution,  died  with  the  small- 


ETOWAH.  439 

pox ;  and  took  him  from  the  prison  under  guard  and  com- 
pelled him  to  bury  his  last  child  in  the  cradle  in  which  it 
died.  On  another  occasion,  when  one  of  his  guards  reported 
to  him  that  a  colored  woman  had  spoken  disrespectfully  of 
him,  without  even  inquiring  what  the  womaa  had  said,  he 
ordered  her  to  be  imprisoned  till  9  o'clock  next  morning, 
when  she  should  be  brought  before  him  to  answer  for  the 
indignity.  In  one  instance  he  imprisoned  six  children  for 
ten  days  for  playing  in  the  streets  on  the  Sabbath  day.  He 
imposed  a  fine  of  $60  upon  an  aged  freedman  for  having 
told  another  freedman  that  he  was  about  to  be  arrested  by 
Mr.  Stunner.  This  poor  old  man,  not  having  the  money  to 
pay  the  fine,  was  imprisoned  until  next  day,  when  his  son 
paid  the  same,  with  $3  additional  jail  fees. 

The  land  upon  which  the  huts  in  this  settlement  are 
built  is  owned  bv  certain  heirs  in  North  Carolina,  and  is 
held  by  the  Bureau  as  abandoned  property.  A  tax,  which 
Superintendent  Stunner  says  goes  to  the  support  of  the  Bu- 
reau (?),  is  imposed  upon  the  owner  of  each  hut  for  ground 
rent.  If  the  occupants  fail  to  pay  the  tax  promptly,  they 
are  either  turned  out  into  the  streets  or  imprisoned,  and  in 
some  instances  huts  have  been  torn  down  by  order  of  the 
Superintendent  for  non-payment  of  tax.  All  business  trans- 
acted by  these  people  is  taxed  for  the  same  purpose.  Five 
dollars  per  month  is  levied  on  every  little  shop,  S2  on  each 
fishing  boat,  $5  on  each  horse  and  cart,  etc.  The  failure  to 
pay  these  taxes  when  due  at  once  subjects  the  property  to 
confiscation.  We  were  unable  to  ascertain  what  amount  of 
money  had  been  collected  by  Superintendent  Stunner,  or 
what  disposition  had  been  made  of  it.  The  imperfect  man- 
npr  in  which  his  books  were  kept  would  have  needed  a 
lengthy  and  detailed    examination  necessary  to  arrive  at 


\ 


440  ETOWAH. 

even  an  approximate  idea  of  the  amount  of  money  collected. 
In  answer  to  a  question  as  to  what  justification  there  was 
for  the  oppressive  burdens  he  had  imposed  upon  these  peo- 
ple, Superintendent  Stunner  replied  that  Captain  Sheeley 
told  him  :  "I  must  have  a  thousand  dollars  a  month  from 
that  settlement."  He  also  furnished  us  with  a  sworn  state- 
ment herewith  furnished,  marked  "E,"  in  which  he  attempts 
to  defend  his  conduct  by  stating  that  he  acted  in  obedience 
to  the  orders  of  his  superior  officers  in  the  Bureau,  Messrs. 
Potts  and  others.  In  an  interview  we  had  with  Captain 
Sheeley,  that  officer  evinced  a  desire  to  shield  Superinten- 
dent Stunner  by  stating  that  a  great  deal  of  what  was  said 
against  him  was  false,  notwithstanding  that  he  had  sworn 
testimony  before  him  that  the  charges  against  Stunner 
were  true. 

In  contracting  to  furnish  laborers  to  work  plantations, 
these  officers  of  the  Bureau  become  at  once  interested 
against  the  laborer  whom  they  compel  to  labor,  perhaps  un- 
justly, when  unfairly  dealt  with  by  the  person  working  him 
on  the  plantation,  and  on  his  refusing  to  work  he  inflicts 
upon  him  unlawful,  and  for  a  breach  of  contract,  unheard 
of  punishments,  putting  them  in  chain-gangs  as  if  they 
were  convicted  criminals.  Mr.  Potts,  or  any  other  officers 
in  the  Bureau,  who  are  engaged  in  working  plantations 
rented  for  cash  or  on  shares,  become  interested  in  securing 
a  low  rate  of  wages,  and  in  making  the  most  stringent  labor 
regulations  to  the  great  detriment  of  the  freedmen. 

They  thereby  give  the  sanction  of  the  Government  to  the" 
establishment  of  wages  far  below  what  the  labor  is  really 
worth. 

The  arbitrary  power  exercised  by  the  officers  and  agents 
of  the  Bureau  in  making  arrests,  imposing  fines  and  inflict- 


ETOWAH.  441 

ing  punishments,  disregarding  the  local  laws  and  especially 
the  Statute  of  Limitations,  creates  prejudice  against  the 
Government.  If  the  officers  were  all  honest  and  intelligent, 
with  even  limited  legal  information,  it  might  be  safe  to  trust 
them  with  this  extraordinary  power;  but  in  many  instances 
the  officers  do  not  possess  the  slightest  knowledge  of  law. 
The  agent,  and  former  chaplain,  Stunner,  imposed  a  fine  of 
$25  on  one  freedman  for  stabbing  another  so  severely  as  to 
endanger  his  life,  and  when  interrogated  by  us,  stated  that 
he  did  not  know  enough  about  law  to  distinguish  a  civil  from 
a  criminal  case.  Many  others  are  as  ignorant  of  the  law  as 
this  reverend  gentleman  is.  We  are  satisfied  that  the  recom- 
mendation which  we  made  in  reference  to  the  withdrawal 
of  the  officers  of  the  Bureau  in  Virginia,  and  the  transfer- 
ence to  the  officers  commanding  the  troops  of  such  duty  as 
it  may  still  be  necessary  to  perform  in  connection  with  the 
freedmen,  is  equally  applicable  to  this  State. 

Very  respectfully  your  obedient  servants. 

James  B.  Seedman,  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  V. 

J.  S.  WoLVERTON,  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  V." 

The  effect  of  this  report,  brought  about  by  the  eSorts  of 
Hallback,  was  the  summary  removal  from  office  by  the  War 
Department  of  Messrs.  Potts,  Hefflin,  Stunner  and  their  as- 
sociates. The  only  consolation  that  Stunner  had  was  the 
comical  manner  in  which  he,  a  veteran  legal  dynamiteur,  was 
described  in  this  official  report  as  one  who  could  not  distin- 
guish a  civil  from  a  criminal  case.  Potts  and  Hefflin 
adroitly  used  their  removal  from  office  to  prejudice  the  ne- 
groes against  Hallback,  for  thousands  of  the  laziest  and  most 
corrupt  among  them  throughout  the  State  had  been  fed  and 


442  ETOWAH. 

clothed  thus  at  the  expense  of  the  Government  to  the  profit 
of  its  trusted  agents. 

In  becoming  thus  a  reformer  of  bad  methods  and  a  bene- 
factor to  the  community  at  large,  Hallback  became  the  tar- 
get for  the  venemous  malice  of  these  men  and  their  illiterate 
and  misguided  negro  followers.  A  year  before  he  was  their 
acknowledged  leader  ;  now  they  were  ready  to  sacrifice  him 
upon  the  first  favorable  opportunity. 


OHAFTER  XXXVIII. 


THE  CONVICT. 


The  career  of  Hefflin  had  already  illustrated  that  the 
man  who  slays  a  fellow-man  seems,  like  the  tiger  which 
has  tasted  blood,  to  thirst  for  more. 

The  tiger  is  the  symbol  of  cruelty,  and  Hefflin  was  a  hu- 
man tiger.  The  car  of  Bacchus  is  represented  as  being 
drawn  by  tigers  to  indicate  that  the  excess  of  wine  trans- 
ports us  to  fury.  Malice  was  the  vintage  drank  by  Hefflin, 
and  the  chief  object  of  his  wrath  was,  as  we  have  seen, 
the  now  released  prisoner,  Hallback,  who  returned  his 
hatred  with  interest.  But  Hallback,  brave  as  he  was, 
would  have  shuddered  had  he  known  of  the  fate  which 
awaited  him. 

It  had  been  for  some  time  evident  that  either  Hallback's 
influence  with  his  negro  associates  must  be  destroyed,  or 
the  hold  on  political  offices  retained  by  Potts,  Hefflin,  and 
their  allies,  would  cease,  as  their  connection  with  the 
Freedman's  Bureau  had  ceased. 

With  Hallback,  too,  vendetta  had  become  a  passion  as 
absorbing  as  ever  it  was  in  the  heart  of  a  Corsican  deter- 
mined on  revenge — a  man  who  feels  obliged  by  a  custom 
consecrated  by  time  that  impels  every  member  of  a  fam- 
ily to  avenge  the  murder  of  a  relative.  So  in  Sardinia,  and 
in  the  mountains  of  Caucasus,  and  in  Montenegro,  custom 
sanctions  the  vendetta.     But  custom   was  not  Hallback's 


444  ETOWAH. 

counsellor.  His  mind  lingered  upon  the  words  in  the 
thirty-fourth  chapter  of  Numbers:  "The  revenger  of 
blood  himself  shall  slay  the  murderer;  when  he  meeteth 
him  he  shall  slay  him.  But  if  the  slayer  shall  at  any  time 
come  without  the  border  of  the  city  of  his  refuge,  whither 
he  was  fled;  And  the  revenger  of  blood  find  him  without 
the  borders  of  the  city  of  his  refuge,  and  the  revenger  of 
blood  kill  the  slayer ;  he  shall  not  be  guilty  of  blood." 

He  regarded  Hefflin  as  the  accomplice  of  Washburn  in 
the  killing  of  "Uncle  Barney;'-  he  regarded  him  as  the 
remorseless  seeker  after  his  own  life.  And  he  proceeded 
to  act  accordingly. 

The  plotters  were  industriously  at  work  to  get  rid  of  him, 
and  every  meeting  in  public  demonstrated  it.  Hefiiin  had 
taunted  him,  time  and  again,  publicly,  and  he  had  for- 
borne to  resent  his  insults. 

Finally  the  ruifain,  as  Hallback  arose  to  speak  before 
the  members  of  the  Loyal  League,  deliberately  spat  in  his 
face.  The  indignity  was  resented  by  a  blow  from  the  fist 
of  the  indignant  young  leader  which  knocked  Hefflin  off 
the  stand.  He  arose  with  fury,  as  the  jeering  negroes 
saluted  his  discomfiture,  and,  remounting  the  stand,  sud- 
denly grasped  his  pistol,  presented  it  to  Hallback's  face, 
and  pulled  the  trigger.  The  cap  snapped,  the  weapon 
failed  to  send  its  deadly  missile  into  the  head  of  his  intend- 
ed victim,  and,  before  he  could  again  cock  his  pistol,  Hall- 
back  had  drawn  his  knife  and  inflicted  a  series  of  stabs 
that  sent  him  reeling  down  again. 

Hefflin  lingered  for   weeks  between  life  and  death,  but 
slowly  recovered.     Hallback  walked  deliberately  to  jail 


ETOWAH.  445 

and  delivered  himself  up,  and  there  he  remained  until  his 
trial  for  assault  with  intent  to  murder  took  place. 

Again  subornation  of  perjury  was  resorted  to  by  Hefflin, 
and  this  time  successfully,  for  at  that  trial  Hallback  was 
convicted. 

Hallback  had  had  no  opportunity  to  become  familiar 
w:th  the  forms  of  law,  but  he  had  exercised,  in  this  instance, 
the  God-given  right  of  self-preservation. 

Negroes  in  the  days  of  slavery  were  rarely  punished 
by  imprisonment  for  any  offence  short  of  murder.  They 
were,  as  a  rule,  ignorant  of  '^vested  rights"  or  "the  sacred 
rights  of  property."  They  had  never  owned  any  property; 
and  the  Dred  Scott  decision,  promulgated  but  a  few  years 
before,  declared  that  they  were  ''chattels"  and  had  no  rights 
which  the  white  man  was  bound  to  respect.  The  slave 
had  little  conception  of  the  penalties  inflicted  by  law. 
There  were  few  negro  vagrants  in  the  slavery  days  ;  and 
the  slave  realized  that  loss  of  labor,  or  time,  was  loss 
of  money  to  his  master  though  of  no  pecuniary  value  to 
himself. 

Theft,  in  the  mind  of  the  slave,  was  not  a  crime,  for  he 
''stole"  from  his  master — usually  a  hog,  or  something  to 
gratify  his  appetite.  He  noted  the  fact  that  the  hog  which 
invaded  the  corn-field  was  punished  by  being  "penned  up" 
and  being  liberally  fed,  that  it  might  make  more  meat  for 
the  master  by  consuming  more  corn  without  having  to  run 
the  gauntlet  for  it.  The  slave  himself  was  punished  with 
the  lash  for  similar  depredations.  So  that  the  negro's  ex- 
emption from  criminal  prosecution  by  reason  of  slavery, 
rendered  him  peculiarly  helpless  as  a  freedman,   entirely 


446  ETOWAH. 

ignorant  of  ''the  ways  that  are  dark  and  the  tricks  that 
are  vain, "practiced  by  the  dynamite  lawyers  of  the  Stunner 
stripe.  Hence,  the  seeming  recklessness  which  filled  the 
so-called  penitentiary  with  negro  convicts. 

''  Lord  of  himself,  that  heritage  of  woe,"  Hallback 
had  now  no  master  to  appeal  to — no  friend,  to  whom 
he  could  turn  for  counsel  and  aid  when  the  merci- 
less hand  of  the  law  clutched  him  by  the  throat.  The 
young  master,  from  whom  he  had  been  partially  alienated 
because  of  his  political  affiliations,  was  absent  at  the 
North  ;  and  he  felt  too  sorelv  the  defection  of  "  friends" 
among  people  of  his  own  color,  to  look  with  sanguine  hope 
even  to  Henry  Latane.  Hefflin  and  Stunner  had  managed 
to  predjudice  many  against  him  by  charging  him  with  be- 
ino:  accessorv  to  the  murder  of  Georo;e  Washburn. 

The  world  seemed  to  have  turned  its  back  upon  this 
solitary  young  black  man  when  the  turnkey  locked  the 
door  of  his  cell. 

Behind  him  were  the  fruitless  struggle  of  a  noble  ambi- 
tion ;  before  him  was what  ? 

Naught  but  dark  and  gloomy  forebodings  ;  and  thoughts 
of  that  revengeful  spirit  for  which  "Uncle  Barnej^"  had 
chided  him,  greeted  him  as  he  looked  through  the  bars  of 
his  cage  to  the  beautiful  blue  skies  above. 

But  immediately  on  his  return  to  Etowah,  appeared  and 
confronted  him  the  friend  and  playmate  of  his  boyhood, 
the  almost  constant  companion  of  his  manhood  days  until 
he  had  become  his  own  master.  An  officer  accompanied 
Henry  Latane,  and  new  hope  took  the  place  of  outraged 
despair  as  Henry  Latand  said  to  him  :     "I    have  come  to 


ETOWAH.  447 

take  you  out  of  this  jail,  Hall.;  I  have  become  your  bonds- 
man, and  your  case  shall  be  carried  to  the  Supreme  Court, 
and  I  wUl  exhaust  half  my  fortune  to  clear  you  of  this 
charge,  if  necessary." 

Thus  Hallback  was  released  on  bond  ;  but  he  had  never 
violated  a  confidence  reposed  in  him,  and  he  disregarded 
the  suggestions  made  to  him  that  he  should  flee  the  coun- 
try. Months  passed,  and  he  promptly  reported  and  sur- 
rendered himself  for  trial  before  that  august  court  which 
claims  to  right  the  errors  of  ''the  court  below." 

The  Chief  Justice  was  now  presiding  over  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  State  in  a  case  involving  the  sentence  to  hard 
labor  for  twenty  years  of  the  foremost  young  negro  leader 
of  the  party  of  which  he  had  been  for  years  the  acknowl- 
edged head. 

He  had  not  anticipated  that  this  contingency  could  be 
possible,  when  he  became  the  lessee  of  the  "long  term,  able- 
•  bodied  convicts,"  before  his  elevation  to  the  Supreme 
bench.  To  his  fertile  brain  it  was  clear  that  his  profits 
could  not  be  less  than  two  hundred  dollars  a  day,  for  the 
"Lessee  of  Convicts,"  unlike  the  humane  slave-holders  of 
the  past,  did  not  look  after  or  concern  himself  about  the 
welfare  of  the  dependent  families  of  the  doomed  men  con- 
fided to  his  control  by  the  merciless  hands  of  the  law. 

If  the  decision  of  the  court  below  be  afiirmed,  then  it 
would  be  his  duty  to  condemn  the  prisoner  to  work  for 
twenty  years  in  mines  in  which  he  was  pecuniarily  very 
largely  interested.  But  how  can  a  Chief  Justice  be  dis- 
qualified from  presiding  in  such  cases  if  interest  proves 


448  ETOWAH. 

stronger  than  conscience?  In  the  days  of  slavery  there 
had  been  five  consumers  to  one  laborer,  and  the  expense 
of  supporting  the  non-workers  devolved  upon  the  master. 
So  that  this  legal  slavery,  born  of  emancipation,  conceived 
in  thecraftv  brain  of  these  so-called  friends  of  theeman- 
cipated  slaves,  became  five-fold  more  profitable  than  the 
slavery  which  had  existed  before  the  war. 

Hallback  realized  now  the  truth  of  old  Barney's  warn- 
ings, and  the  statement  made  to  him  by  Colonel  Barnum, 
that  the  only  interest  strangers,  who  lived  a  thousand  miles 
distant,  could  possibly  feel  for  the  negro  was  to  use  him  to 
further  their  own  schemes. 

He  wrote  to  those  among  the  white  Radicals  who  had 
seemed  so  loyally  his  friends  in  the  time  of  his  great  influ- 
ence over  his  race,  but  not  one  answered  his  appeals,  and 
not  one  visited  him  in  the  felon's  cell. 

He  had  urged  his  people  to  unite  with  him  in  petitioning 
for  the  restoration  of  the  civil  law,  and  his  appeals  had  been 
met  with  attempted  assassination.  He  who  had  only  exer- 
cised the  right  of  self-defence,  and  had  voluntarily  delivered 
himself  a  prisoner,  was  now  about  to  be  tried  for  a  crime 
which  might  result  in  a  sentence  worse  than  death. 

Hefilin,  on  the  contrary,  aided  by  bis  rich  allies  and  his 
astute  attorney,  John  Bull  Stunner,  had  been  legally  ac- 
quitted. And  this  ex-slave  asked  himself  a  question  which 
our  wisest  judges  may  well  consider,  viz. :  ''Does  the  execu- 
tion of  the  modern  written  law  protect  the  innocent  poor, 
or  punish  the  rich  who  are  guilty,  as  well  as  those  of  Moses 
written  thousands  of  years  ago,  did?" 

Deep  sympathy  for  the  prisoner  was  evident  before  the 


ETOWAH.  449 

opening  of  the  court,  and  the  negro  janitor  tip-toed  around 
the  chamber  while  dusting  the  court-room  as  if  he  was  afraid 
of  disturbing  the  solemn  quiet  which  prevailed.  The  law- 
yers conversed  in  low  tones.  The  prominence  of  the  bonds- 
men Avho  had  stood  by  Hallback  in  the  hour  when  all  others 
had  deserted  him,  the  high  character  of  the  attorney  for  the 
defence,  and  the  remarkable  individuality  of  tie  young  ne- 
gro prisoner,  combined  to  bring  together  a  large  and  intelli- 
gent audience  at  the  trial.  Every  argument  had  been  ex- 
hausted, and  the  court  convened  to  announce  its  decision  on 
this  case,  and  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  another.  "The 
mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly,  but  they  grind  exceeding 
small." 

Hallback  seemed  the  realizatio^n  of  Victor  Hugo's  words: 
•'The  convict,  without  society  except  that  of  convict  slaves 
like  himself;  without  clothing  except  the  striped  uniform 
of  the  convict;  without  reward  for  his  labor;  without  a  bed 
except  the  plank  with  the  number  marked  thereon  ;  without 
a  name  except  that  number;  with  nothing  to  look  forward 
to  except  the  monotony  of  a  painful  and  laborious  life  dur- 
ing the  term  of  his  sentence,  is  indeed  a  pitiable  object." 
But  now  and  then  he  caught  the  re-assuring  glance  of  Henry 
Latane,  which  seemed  to  say,  "I  will  do  all  that  mortal  man 
can  to  set  you  free,"  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears.  And  anon, 
as  he  looked  to  where  John  Hefflin  sat  and  met  the  vindic- 
tive malice  that  glanced  from  that  villain's  eyes,  his  man- 
acled hands  clenched  nervously  and  his  eyes  blazed  with  a 
defiance  that  death  alone  can  stifle.  He  seemed  like  a  caged 
lion  at  bay. 

Even  cupidity  will  not  tempt  a  Jew  to  swear  away  the 
life  or  liberty  of  another  Jew,  and   if  the  negro  was  as  kend- 

29 


450  ETOWAH. 

fast  to  his  race  as  the  Israelite  to  his,  a  solid  negro  party 
would  be  a  possibility.  But  the  two  potent  agencies  which 
have  caused  the  Indian  to  pale  away  before  the  Caucasian — 
whisky  and  bribe  money — were  brought  tobe.ir  against  this 
young  negro  thus  isolated  and  thus  defenceless. 

As  the  Justices  filed  into  the  court-room,  headed  by  the 
Chief  Justice  himself,  they  appeared  dignified  and  learned. 
The  Chief  Justice  waved  his  associates  to  their  seats  ;  his  nod 
to  the  sheriff  was  more  stifif,  and  his  "  open  the  court "  less 
audible  than  usual.  It  was  evident  that  he  presided  with 
reluctance  over  this  trial.  A  few  moments  later  he  said, 
turning  to  one  of  the  associate  justices  : 

"Justice  Blanton,  have  you  any  announcement  to  make?" 

Justice  Blanton  responded: 

''In  Hallback  against  the  people  of  this  State,  number  48, 
advisement  docket." 

The  Chief  Justice  turned  the  leaves  of  the  court  docket  to 
the  case  indicated,  when  the  Justice  read  the  decision  of  the 
court.  The  manner  of  Justice  Blanton  showed  how  reluc- 
tantly he  performed  the  duty  he  had  been  delegated  by  his 
associates  to  perform.  He  announced  that  "the  judgment 
of  the  court  below  is  affirmed"  (the  sentence  had  been  hard 
labor  in  the  penitentiary  for  twenty  years)  "as  to  defendant 
in  indictment,  and  that  it  be  carried  into  effect  by  the  sheriff 
of  Etowah  county  without  delay." 

The  judgment  of  the  court  was  unanimous;  Hallback 
bowed  his  head  and  seemed  aged  in  a  moment.  Henry  La- 
tane  grasped  his  hand  firmly  and  said  to  him  :  "  Hall,  I 
would  have  done  just  as  you  did ;  you  are  no  more  of  a  crim- 
inal than  I  am ;  we  have  done  all  that  could  be  done  for  you, 
but  I  shall  apply  for  a  pardon  every  four  years,  as  a  new 
Governor  is  elected,  until  I  get  you  released.'' 


ETOWAH.  451 

^•God  bless  you,  Marse  Henry!  God  bless  you!  "  was  all 
that  poor  Hallback  could  say  as  he  was  led  back  to  prison 
again. 

No  one  could  blame  the  Chief  Justice  or  his  associates,  who 
could  not  have  legally  decided  otherwise,  but  never  was 
sympathy  more  universally  felt  for  a  prisoner.  All  coun- 
tries have,  of  necessity,  penal  institutions,  and  to  endeavor 
to  dispense  with  them  is  Utopian. 

But  it  was  reserved  for  America,  "the  home  of  the 
oppressed  of  all  nations,"  to  make  the  penitentiary  a  system 
to  enrich  avaricious  individuals  rather  than  to  reform  the 
criminals. 

Money  is  the  lever  which  moves  the  world  and  monarchs 
pay  tribute  to  it.  Humanity  lives  and  labors  for  it.  But 
never,  perhaps,  was  the  assertion  that  "  the  love  of  money  is 
the  root  of  all  evil "  better  illustrated  than  in  the  convict 
lease  system  which  prevails  in  many  of  the  Southern  States. 
The  "black  hole  of  Calcutta"  is  little  worse  than  the  mines 
where  Hallback  was,  by  this  decree,  forced  to  delve  for  twen- 
ty years  that  a  few  rich  men  may  be  made  fabulously  rich. 

Silvio  Pellico,  in  his  noted  work,  "  My  Prisons,"  has  made 
the  dungeons  in  the  Castle  of  Spielberg  famous  the  world 
over.  And  the  civilized  world  read  the  history  of  Austrian 
tyranny,  as  illustrated  by  that  imprisonment  of  eleven  years, 
with  a  sympathy  which  developed  a  public  sentiment  that 
revolutionized  the  method  of  punishing  political  criminals. 

His  crime  was  an  undying  love  for  his  native  land,  a  pa- 
triotism that  defied  prison  bars  to  the  end,  when  solitary  con- 
finement had  shattered  his  health  and  bent  the  feeble  frame 
which  held  his  indomitable  spirit  until  the  grave  claimed  its 
own. 


452  ETOWAH. 

But  Silvio  Pellico  never  described  any  refinement  of  tor- 
ture equal  to  that  to  which  Hallback  was  subjected  by  this 
conviction,  which  gave  evident  satisfaction  to  Detective  Heff- 
lin.  His  vindictive  malice  could  now  feel  sated,  for  it  had 
certainly  inflicted  a  terrible  vengeance  on  this  young  leader 
of  the  "  Torch  Bearers " — this  rival  for  leadership  of  the 
ignorant  and  easily  duped  freedmen.  Hallback  had  defied 
him  then,  and  he  defied  him  now,  though  defiance  from  a 
helpless,  shackled  convict  was  apparently  harmless;  yet 
none  who  saw  the  threatening  gesture  of  that  black,  mana- 
cled hand,  and  the  indignant  hatred  of  Hallback's  eyes, 
could  wonder  that  the  malignant  wretch,  who  had  by  suborn- 
ed testimony  accomplished  his  ruin,  should  cast  down  his 
eyes  and  keep  them  thus  until  the  prisoner  was  led  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

CA   IRA. 

Mrs.  LaGrange  seemed  to  have  found  her  child  again  upon 
whom  she  doted  with  all  a  mother's  love.  Though  Emile 
remained  in  the  asylum  in  New  York,  and  was  thus  as  one 
dead  to  her,  yet  this  pale  but  lovely  girl,  so  patient  in  her 
long  suffering,  so  thoughtfully  appreciative  of  the  slightest 
kindness,  had  endeared  herself  to  and  softened  the  heart  of 
the  once  selfish,  worldly  Mrs.  LaGrange. 

In  winning  the  love  of  Emile  LaGrange,  in  spite  of  all 
her  efforts  to  prevent  it,  she  had  made  an  enemy  whose  sel- 
fish malice  seemed  utter  heartlessness. 

In  being  the  only  person  whom  Emile  remembered  during 
his  mental  aberration,  and,  therefore,  the  only  means  by 
which  he  could  be  restored  to  health  in  mind  and  body,  it 
hecame  absolutely  essential  that  she  should  not  leave  the 
household  which  had  so  long  depended  upon  her  while  re- 
garding her  as  a  dependent. 

Her  letters  in  reply  to  those  of  the  unfortunate  young 
man  in  the  inebriate  asylum  were  so  full  of  magnanimity, 
the  gentlest  consideration  and  character,  that  they  aston- 
ished while  they  charmed  Mrs.  LaGrange;  and  yet  it 
needed  a  "scene"  to  bring  these  facts  out,  and  when  Mrs. 
LaGrange  had  nearly  killed  her  with  that  speechless  grief, 
the  very  eloquence  of  silence  which  followed  the  sudden 
pallor,  the  failing  of  the  limbs  and  look  of  sudden  pain, 
alarmed  her  and  inspired  a  remorse  similar  to  that  of  a 
murderer.     Her  own  feelings  as  suddenly  changed  from  hate 


454  ETOWAH. 

to  love,  from  envy  to  compassion,  from  malicious  insinua- 
tions to  the  most  untiring  watchfulness  and  care.  She  could 
scarcely  believe  it  possible  that  this  Julia  was  the  proud, 
imperiously  proud  governess,  but  rather  she  seemed  un- 
earthly in  her  patience  and  loveliness. 

Her  figure  had  lost  its  plumpness  now,  and  the  large  eyes 
had  a  lustre,  and  seemed  so  deep  sunken  as  to  seem  unnatural? 
yet  beautiful  beyond  description.  Tlie  sweet  face  smiled 
gently,  and  the  voice,  though  weak,  had  the  same  sweet  in- 
tonation. 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  LaGrange ;  you  are  too  good  and  kind ! 
How  shall  I  ever  repay  you  ?  " 

"  Hush,  Julia!  don't  call  me  Mrs.  LaGrange  any  more.  I 
am  your  mother  now,  and  I  love  you  just  as  much  as  I  do 
any  of  my  children.  Henceforth  you  are  to  be  my 
adopted  daughter.'' 

Julia  feebly  protested,  but  Mrs.  LaGrange  playfully  closed 
her  mouth  with  her  hand,  then  kissing  the  invalid,  said : 

"Don't  worry  now,  my  child;  go  to  sleep;  you  need  rest.'' 

Julia  smiled  and  closed  her  eyes  as  if  to  sleep.  The  even- 
ing sun  was  all  aglow ;  the  window  was  open  and  the  west- 
ern sky  seemed  never  lovelier  as  Julia  watched  it  from  her 
sick-bed. 

"  Am  I  going  there?"  she  muttered,  unconsciously. 

"No,  my  darling;  you  are  going  to  New  York  with  me." 

"  Did  I  speak,  Mrs.  LaGrange,  or  did  you  interpret  my 
thoughts?''  asked  Julia,  turning  her  eyes  upon  her  nurse. 

"  You  spoke,  my  dear,  and  very  foolishly,  too.  Don't  you 
know  I  can't  spare  you  to  God  yet." 

Julia  smiled.  "I  did  not  know  that  I  had  spoken.  Do 
you  think  I  should  go  to  heaven  if  I  should  die  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,  child.     You  are  the  best  and  sweetest 


ETOWAH.  455 

girl  I  ever  saw,  and  I  don't  believe  you  ever  had  a  wicked 
thought  in  all  your  life."  Then  she  added,  cheerfully  :  '  But 
I  tell  you,  eJulia,  if  you  don't  get  well  in  two  weeks  I  am 
going  to  leave  you.  I  have  engaged  rooms  for  us  all  at  Lake 
George,  and  don't  intend  to  be  delayed." 

But  Julia  was  not  too  sick  to  perceive  that  this  language 
was  forced,  for  Mrs.  LaGrange,  in  turning  her  head  to 
avert  her  face,  had  let  fall  a  tear  upon  the  thin,  wasted  hand 
which  she  held  in  her  own. 

"  If  I  do  not  leave  you  before  then,"  said  Julia,  slowly  and 
sadly,  "  I  will  go  with  you,  Mrs. — mother!  " 

It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  had  ever  uttered 
that  word,  ''  mother."  She  had  never  known  a  mother,  and 
now  she  began  to  feel  how  much  happier  her  life  would  have 
been  if  she  had,  as  a  child,  been  petted  and  caressed  as  she 
was  now. 

"This  is  worth  getting  sick  for,"  she  added,  as  Mrs.  La- 
Grange  kissed  her  forehead  time  and  again,  and  thanked  her 
as  a  mother  would  a  wronged  child  whom  she  held  again  to 
her  yearning  bosom. 

"My  child!  ray  child!  my  child!"  she  said  as  all  the  lov- 
ing tenderness  of  her  heart  welled  to  the  surface,  and  she 
saw,  with  unfeigned  anxiety,  the  growing  weakness  of  the 
invalid. 

The  sun  sank  slowly  away  behind  the  hill-clouds  and  the 
gathering  shades  of  twilight  appeared,  and  still  Julia  fol- 
lowed the  departing  rays  with  her  eyes  as  if  she  was  never 
to  see  them  again  on  earth.  Her  hand  was  still  clasped  in 
that  of  her  weeping  friend  who  could  no  longer  conceal  her 
fears.     Then  as  suddenly  she  sank  into  a  gentle  slumber. 

This,  the  first  sickness  Julia  Dearing  ever  had,  developed 


456  ETOWAH. 

her  exceeding  depth  of  character  as  well  as  her  patience,  and 
that  gentleness  which  had  hitherto  been  latent. 

It  did  more  :  it  developed  a  tenderness  of  feeling  and  a 
gentleness  of  manner  in  the  Creole  lady  which  her  nearest 
friends  were  agreeably  surprised  to  observe. 

Is  there  not  in  every  woman's  nature  a  hidden  sentiment 
of  love,  affection  and  unselfishness  that  needs  but  the  right 
influence  to  bring  it  into  action  ?  Touch  that  hidden  chord 
and  love  responds  like  the  genial  sunshine  of  spring.  Iso- 
late the  human  heart  from  kindred  fellowship,  and  it  is 
warped,  or  silenced,  or  blighted  as  the  nipping  frost  of  au- 
tumn cuts  down  the  plant,  and  hope  dies  a  lingering  death. 

Whether  Mrs.  LaGrange  was  conscious  of  the  change 
which  her  own  nature  had  undergone,  or  whether  she  was 
reflecting  upon  the  necessity  for  every  heart  to  find  an  object 
upon  which  it  can  lavish  its  affection,  her  devoted  atten- 
tions increased  and  Julia  was  more  than  interested  as  she 
heard  her  kind,  watchful  friend  read  from  a  New  York 
paper.  Julia  was  convalescing  rapidly;  the  night  succeed^ 
ing  the  evening  described  above  decided  the  crisis  and  de 
cided  it  in  her  favor,  thanks  to  her  superb  constitution. 

"Read  that  again,  please,  Mrs.  LaGrange,"  she  said.  Mre. 
LaGrange  read  the  statement  of  the  death  of  a  beggar  in 
New  York.  The  old  woman  had  once  been  a  stewardess  on 
an  Atlantic  vessel,  and  had  died  of  exposure  and  supposed 
starvation.  But  in  her  humble  room  was  discovered  in  va- 
rious trunks  and  receptacles  a  singular  array  of  wealth. 
There  were  dresses  of  the  most  costly  texture  of  a  style  worn 
a  half  century  ago,  handkerchiefs  of  exceeding  fineness,  and 
silks  which  would  have  kept  her  in  comfort  all  her  life  if 
they  had  been  sold.  In  one  of  the  dresses,  sewed  within  its 
folds,  was  a  bank-book  which  showed  that  $12,000  was  placed 


ETOWAH.  457 

to  her  credit  in  a  savings  bank  in  the  city.  Two  other  books 
showed  $50,000  more  in  other  banks.  "How  singular  1"  said 
Julia.  "It  seems  to  me  a  sin  to  use  so  much  money  on 
one's  self,  but  to  hoard  it  in  that  manner,  so  as  to  benefit 
no  one,  and  die  as  she  had  lived,  a  seeming  pauper,  seems 
worse  than  sinful." 

"Wait  a  moment,  Julia,  let  me  read  further ;  I  think  she 
was  a  very  noble  character.  I  don't  think  we  can  ever  know 
others,  or  even  ourselves,  until  we  have  been  tried ;  and  you 
know  I  am  not  a  moralist  generally,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
until  recently  I  have  never  thought  life  worth  having  except 
for  the  pleasure  it  affords  us." 

The  description  ended  with  a  brief  will,  made  by  the  old 
woman  thirty  years  previous  to  her  death,  leaving  her  for- 
tune todecrepid  seamen  for  whom  a  home  was  to  be  founded. 

"Who  would  have  thought  such  a  rough,  coarse,  harsh 
old  creature  as  this  crone  was  thought  to  be,  could  be  the 
author  of  such  a  charity  ?  "  said  Mrs.  LaGrange. 

■'  I  would,  perhaps,  if  I  had  known  her,"  said  Julia. 

"  Did  you  ever  know  any  person  of  that  class,  my  dear?" 

"  0  yes,  indeed;  I  believe  I  have  no  better  friend  than  a 
poor  old  factory  woman,  whose  charity  I  honor  more  than 
that  of  Peabody  or  Vanderbilt.  I  would  not  underrate  any 
of  the  grand  achievements  of  these  benefactors  to  whom,  as 
a  Southener,  I  feel  the  deepest  gratitude;  but  the  best  char- 
ity is  that  which  is  dispensed  by  the  poor  who,  needing  all 
that  they  have  for  their  own  comfort  and  subsistence,  deny 
themselves  the  necessities  of  life  to  aid  those  more  needy 
than  themselves.  I  have  never  known  a  nobler  character 
than  that  of  Mrs.  Higgins." 

"  Who  was,  or  is,  Mrs.  Higgins?  "  asked  Mrs.  LaGrange. 


458  ETOWAH. 

"  A  poor,  bed-ridden,  rheumatic  factory  woman,  and,  a'^  I 
said,  a  friend  of  mine." 

"  Well,  Julia,  I  do  declare ;  you  are  the  greatest  girl  T  ever 
knew ! " 

"  Please  don't  flatter  me,  or  speak  in  that  way,  Mrs. 
LaGrange.  I  used  to  think  myself  too  strong  to  need  pet- 
ting, but  you  have  taught  me  that  the  sweetest  feeling  a 
woman  can  have  is  that  she  is  dependent  upon  others  for 
love,  and  has  found  friends  who  overrate  and  spoil  her." 

''Bless  your  precious  heart,  my  dear  child!"  said  the 
enthusiastic  woman,  kissing  her  repeatedly  and  thanking 
Heaven  for  this  new  experience. 

Mrs.  LaGrange,  when  a  young,  pretty  girl,  had  married 
an  old  man  for  his  wealth.  She  gained  all  that  she  sought, 
except  happiness ;  gold  can't  buy  that,  nor  can  the  young 
heart  so  adapt  itself  to  circumstances  as  to  happily  mate 
with  an  aged,  sordid,  miserly  man.  Such  a  man  was  Mr. 
LaGrange. 

When  he  died  she  seemed  like  a  bird  out  of  its  gilded 
prison,  although  she  studiously  observed  the  conventional 
customs  due  to  his  memory. 

In  course  of  time  she  became  as  gay  as  she  had  been  quiet 
and  depressed  during  her  husband's  life. 

People  courted  the  wealthy  young  widow,  whose  hospital- 
ity was  unbounded.  That  hospitality  wrecked  the  feeble- 
minded Emile,  who  inherited  his  mother's  giddy  fondness 
for  dissipation. 

At  thirty-five,  Mrs.  LaGrange  had  already  become  sated 
with  this  exciting  life,  and  ennui  threatened  to  make  her  as 
discontented  and  morose  as  she  had  been  when  a  young 
bride.  Julia  alone  had  touched  the  hidden  chord  of  her 
nature  which   now  vibrated  in  responsive  tones.     Here    a 


ETOWAH.  459 

young  girl  had  wrought  that  change  which  in  early  life  a 
suitable  marriage,  based  on  mutual  love,  would  have 
effected. 

The  two  women  had  instructed  each  other,  and  an  incu- 
bus seemed  lifted  from  each  of  them. 

''  How  can  I  ever  repay  you  for  your  kindness  to  me,  my 
dear  friend:  but  for  your  nursing  I  would  have  died?"  said 
Julia. 

"  By  remaining  with  me  all  your  life,  my  child,  my 
child  !  You  have  taught  what  neither  religion  nor  life  could 
teach  me  before  :  that  '  it  is  better  to  give  than  to  receive; ' 
yet  if  I  did  not  receive  your  affection,  I  should  be  as  selfish, 
I  fear,  as  I  was  before  I  knew  how  dear  you  were  to  me.  It 
is  I  who  am  your  debtor,  therefore,  but  I  would  have  you 
think  otherwise  in  order  to  enforce  the  penalty;  you  must 
make  up  your  mind  to  be  my  adopted  child,  Julia;  I  can't 
spare  you  now." 

Julia  smiled  and  kissed  Mrs.  LaGrange  affectionately, 
saying  :  "  We  will  not  talk  about  that  now  ;  I  can  hardly 
repa)^  you  for  giving  me  a  home  so  long  as  you  contemplated ; 
but  for  the  present  we  will  not  think  of  separation.  Please 
send  my  little  friends  to  me ;  I  feel  strong  enough  now  to 
resume  my  place  as  governess." 

Although  still  confined  to  her  room  and  her  bed,  Julia 
Dearing's  natural  energy  had  returned  to  her,  and  her  sense 
of  the  obligation  thus  incurred  made  her  desirous  of  doing 
all  in  her  power. 

It  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  that  she  consented  to  accom- 
pany her  to  New  York. 

Colonel  Barnum  had  returned  to  New  York,  and  had  writ- 
ten to  Colonel  Leslie,  stating  the  unsuccessful  results  of  his 


460  ETOWAH. 

mission.     ''  I  did  not  succeed,'"  he  wrote,  and  made  no  allu- 
sion to  his  having  met  Julia  Bearing. 

But  Julia  and  Mrs.  LaGrange  were  destined  to  undergo 
many  experiences  before  they  met  Emile  LaGrange  again. 
Subtle  influences  were  at  work,  which  resulted  in  that 
young  gentleman's  escape  from  the  inebriate  asylum. 

His  escape  was  not  an  accident  or  due  to  negligence  so 
much  as  to  a  deeply-laid  plan  by  which  certain  adventurers 
of  foreign  birth  designed  to  get  possession  of  his  fortune. 

There  is  no  law  granting  the  right  of  primogeniture,  or  of 
entailing  estates,  in  the  United  States,  and  hence  this  coun- 
try is  not  a  legitimate  field  for  anarchists ;  and  socialism, 
communism,  Red-Republicanism,  are  not  yet  recognized 
factors.  Emboldened,  however,  by  the  success  of  Black-Re- 
publicanism, which  denies  to  Mongolians  and  the  aboriginal 
owners  of  our  soil,  the  Indians  of  North  America,  the  right 
of  citizenship  while  demanding  it  for  negro  slaves,  these 
foreign  "  isms'^  were  exotics  as  yet. 

But  at  the  time  of  which  we  write  the  apostles  of  these 
"  isms"  were  knocking  at  our  doors  in  New  York  and  in 
New  Orleans.  In  the  latter  city  they  had  learned  of  the 
wealth  and  loose  habits  of  Emile  LaGrange  and  marked  him 
as  one  of  their  first  victims. 

Vice  held  toward  him  her  beauteous,  jewelled  arms,  and 
the  inane  brain  of  the  eflPeminate  youth  saw,  reeled  and 
fell. 

He  was  followed  to  New  York,  and  one  of  their  number 
secured  admission  into  the  inebriate  asylum  apparently  for 
the  legitimate  purpose  of  being  cured  of  alcoholism.  Thus  be 
was  thrown  in  the  society  of  Emile  LaGrange. 

The  generous  heart   of  Emile  LaGrange,  before  his  feeble 


ETOWAH.  4^(^l 


mmd  was  further  enfeebled  by   excessive   alcoholic   indul- 
gence, was  ever  ready  to  subscribe  to  benevolent  objects. 

Now,  that  he  was  a  victim  to  the  phantoms  conjured  from 
the  diseased  brain  by  drink,  he  did  not  appreciate  that  the 
associate  who  claimed  to  be  similarly  a  slave  to  alcohol  was 
at  heart  and  m  fact  a  brutal  criminal  appointed  by  a  secret 
political  society  to  '^shadow"  him.     And  day  by  day  he  in- 
stilled into  his  diseased  brain  the  doctrines  of  communism 
and  the  absurd  doctrine  that  no   one  had  the   right   to  own 
property.     By  what   method  he  learned  of  the   wealth   of 
Emile  LaGrange  we  do  not  know,  but  certain  it  is  that  he 
determined  to  appropriate  it  for  the  benefit  nominally  of  poor 
suffering  humanity,  but  really  that  he  and  his  associates- 
now  fugitives  from  justice,  outlawed  in  their  native  country 
and  bearing  the  mark  of  Cain  upon   their  faces-might  con- 
tinue their  nefarious  work  and   live   here,  as  they  had  lived 
there,  without  labor.     Suffice  it  to  say,  he  improved  his  op- 
portunities, and  Emile  LaGrange,    with  a  hundred  reckless 
spirits  aiding  him  to   evade   detection,   successfully  eluded 
the  search  for  him.     At  intervals,  as  the  truth  dawned  upon 
him  that  gradually  his  better  instincts   were  being  drowned 
m  liquor,  now  freely  furnished  him,  that  he  might  become 
the  more  pliant  tool  of  his   so-called   friends,  he  would  en- 
deavor to  escape   from    them.     But   as  often  was  his   feeble 
opposition  overcome,  and  he  became  an  involuntary  prison- 
er seemingly  by  his  own  act.     He  wrote  letters  full  of  affec- 
tion to  his  mother,  whom  he   thought  in   New  Orleans,  and 
other  letters  full  of  love  to  Julia,  assuring  her  that  his  future 
was  in  her  hands.     These  letters  never   reached  their  desti- 
nation, and,  receiving  no  replies,   he  imagined  himself  neg- 
lected, and   became    morose    and     reckless.     Now,   it  was 


462  ETOWAH. 

thought,  ^' the  pear  is  ripe,''  and  they  made  preparations  ac- 
cordingly. 

Regrets  haunted  him,  but  regrets  are  useless.  Around  the 
Colonne  Vendome  in  Paris,  wreaths,  upon  which  are  inscribed 
"Regrets,"  were  placed  regularly  by  the  veterans  who  fol- 
lowed the  first  Napoleon. 

The  empire  falls  and  amid  its  death-throes  the  Commune 
rises.  Many  who  have  placed  daily  these  wreaths  around 
this  monument  to  the  hero  of  France  embark  wildly  in  the 
new  movement  which  has  for  its  slogan,  ^'Liberie,  Egalite, 
Fraternite."' 

The  rights  of  the  people !  Who  despise  them  more  than 
they?  With  them  fury  usurps  the  authority  of  the  law.  They 
cast  down  the  monument  to  the  "Grand  Empereur,"  over- 
turn the  Colonne  Vendome !  They  raze  to  the  ground  what 
has  taken  generations  to  build  and  beautify,  the  historic 
Palace  of  The  Tuileries.  And  they  imagine  that  this  is 
patriotism  !  Above  the  saloon  and  cafe  of  Edmond  Megy,  a 
French  Communist  refugee,  was  the  meeting  place  of  the 
associates  of  Emile  LaG range. 

"Come  this  way,"  said  the  leader,  who  was  still  a  young 
man.  He  had  closed  the  front  door  of  the  cafe,  and  opened 
a  side  entrance,  which  was  invisible  except  to  the  initiated. 
A  pressure  of  the  hand  upon  the  brick  touched  a  concealed 
spring,  and  a  door  opened  and  admitted  them. 

This  cafe  was  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  and  a  more  retired 
locality  can  hardlv  be  found  in  New  York.  Upon  one  side 
were  the  ever-living  streams  of  people  and  vehicles,  which 
make  Broadway  the  busiest  street  in  the  world.  Near  by  is 
the  still  more  uproarious  Third  Avenue  culminating  in  the 
famous  Bowery.  Not  far  distant  is  Bleecker  street,  where 
the  French  Communist  refugees  resided.     It  was  the  occa- 


ETOWAH.  468 

sion  of  the  annual  banquet  of  the  "Societe  des  Refu^ies  de 
la  Commune,  or  Societe  Internationale."  Edmond  Megy 
saluted  the  party  within,  who  arose  and  returned  the  saluta- 
tion. Then  he  took  his  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table  as  Presi- 
dent of  the  Society.  He  was  the  leader  of  the  party  who 
shot  Ai'chbishop  Darboy,  of  Paris,  and  his  four  priests. 
As  in  the  bloody  days  of  the  French  Revolution,  when  a 
Murat  and  a  Robespierre  ruled  with  the  bloody  hand,  Megy, 
as  the  most  brutal  of  the  assassins,  was  accorded  the  highest 
honors  of  the  society.  Thus  brutal  are  they  who  claim  to 
be  the  champions  of  humanity.  Megy  spoke.  Megy  was 
born  in  1844.  Before  the  republic  was  declared  he  had  killed 
a  gendarme,  had  been  condemned  to  transportation  for 
twenty  years  therefor,  had  been  released  when  the  Empire 
fell,  fought  in  the  French  army  till  peace  was  declared,  as- 
sumed the  prefecture  of  Marseilles  under  the  Commune,  ar- 
resting his  predecessor,  and  finally,  returning  to  Paris,  was 
given  the  command  of  Fort  d'Issy.  After  burning  the  palace 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor— named  in  honor  of  the  "Legion" 
established  by  the  great  Napoleon— and  shooting  the  Arch- 
bishop, he  fled,  escaping  via  Geneva  to  London.  As  the  first 
speaker  concluded  his  rapidly  narrated  story,  introducing 
Megy  to  them,  the  members  of  the  society  held  up  the  right 
hand  and  cried,  "Vive  la  "Commune !" 

Justus,  the  famous  German  Communist,  and  Meille,  Fin- 
niel,  Martelet,  Lacaz  and  other  French  Communists  were 
present.  Red  flags  and  placards,  inscribed,  "Vive  la  Com- 
mune," "the  laws  must  be  submitted  to  the  people,"  and 
similar  mottoes  adorned  the  hall.  At  the  other  end  of  the 
table  sat  citizen  Winton,  managing  editor  of  the  New  York 
Soleil,  Vice-President.  Citizen  Winton  welcomed  them. 
He  was  proud,  he  said,  "to  extend  another  welcome  to  the 


464  ETOWAH. 

refugees  of  the  Paris  Commune,  and  to  those  victims  and 
martyrs  of  right  and  justice,  those  men  who  had  been  thrice 
condemned  to  death."  He  ''could  only  add  that  he  regretted 
not  being  able  to  welcome  them  to  a  republic  worthy  of  their 
hopes  and  aspirations."  Then  he  called  for  curses  on  the 
memory  of  Thiers.  Megy  applauded  the  speech  of  the  mao- 
aging  editor  of  the  great  French  democratic  daily  vocifer- 
ously as  "citizen  Winton"  concluded.  Again  Megy  was 
called  upon  to  state  his  history  and  why  and  where  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Paris  was  shot.  Evidently  these  humanitarians 
thirsted  for  bloody  recitals  if  they  could  not  shed  blood. 

Megy  next  spoke,  and  the  recital  recalled  the  worst  days 
of  the  rule  of  the  Jacobins  of  old.  After  rapidly  narrating 
the  closing  scenes  of  the  bloody  days  of  the  French  Com- 
mune, the  speaker,  often  quoting  from  the  works  of  Proud- 
hon  and  the  Abbe  Constant  to  enforce  his  extreme  socialistic 
views,  made  this  startling  threat  concerning  America  and 
the  Government  of  the  United  States : 

"  Under  the  name  of  Nihilists  we  have  invaded  the  very 
Palace  of  the  despotic  Czar  of  all  the  Russias.  The  most 
educated  Muscovites,  like  the  students  of  the  Petrovsk)'- 
Universitv  at  Moscow,  are  there  enrolled  as  Nihilists  or 
United  Sclavonians.  Throughout  Poland  and  Lithuania, 
throughout  Germany  and  among  the  "  Trades  Unions"  in 
Great  Britain,  are  active  Nihilists,  who  have  sworn  to  level 
privileges  and  share  property. 

"  The  state  of  affairs  in  France  before  the  revolution  of  '89 
is  being  repeated  here.  The  only  thing  that  has  staved  off 
a  revolution  so  far  is  that  the  working-men  are  making  the 
mistake  of  mixing  up  in  politics  and  looking  to  an  amend- 
ment of  the  laws  and  the  election  of  working-men  to  office 
for  their  remedy.      The   working-men's  organizations  are  so 


ETOWAH.  46e5 

anxiouK  to  make  their  own  government  that  they  forget  that 
a  change  of  laws  does  not  mean  a  change  of  system,  which 
is  what  they  want.  They  work  on  the  surface  only.  Legal 
methods  are  all  wrong ;  whatever  is  legal  is  anti-revolution- 
ary ;  revolution  is  never  legal.  Laws  made  by  one  set  of 
men  are  as  bad  as  laws  made  by  another.  This  is  what  we 
are  teaching  the  people,  and   they   are   learning  it   slowly. 

"  They  call  this  a  republic.  It  is  no  more  a  republic  than 
France  is.  In  France  it  was  the  aristocracy  of  birth  that 
brought  on  the  revolution ;  here  it  is  the  aristocracy  of 
money,  which  is  worse.  Great  fortunes  like  those  of  Stew- 
art, Astor  and  Vanderbilt  are  sure  indications  of  the  misery 
of  the  people.  In  Paris  it  was  the  same  thing.  It  is  so 
here  in  New  York.  ''I  tell  you,"  exclaimed  Megy,  taking 
a  big  drink  and  becoming  excited  by  reason  of  that,  or  with 
his  theme,  or  both — "  I  tell  you  that  the  people  will  rise, 
and  the  governments  know  it !  Look  at  the  strikes  here  last 
year.  The  working-man  is  beginning  to  learn  his  rights,  and 
will  not  be  long  in  asserting  them  by  force.  The  Commune, 
as  we  tried  it  in  Paris,  will  come  here ;  it  will  be  brought  on 
by  the  misery  and  oppression  of  the  people.  The  working- 
men  may  not  want  it,  but  it  will  come  in  spite  of  them." 

"And  how  about  America?"  cried  a  voice. 

"  In  the  United  States,  if  the  manufacturers  continue  to 
oppress  the  working-men,  it  will  be  necessary  to  upset 
them  if  corporations  throttle  industry  to  strangle  it. 
Organizations  are  being  completed  everywhere — in  New 
York,  Chicago,  San  Francisco,  Paterson,  Newark.  We  have 
correspondents  everywhere.  A  revolution  cannot  be  fore- 
seen, of  course;  but  I  see  its  elements  here  distinctly.  It 
will   come   in   the   opposite   way  to  what  it  did  in  France. 

■30 


466  ETOWAH. 

There  it  is  not  the  poor  who  revolt ;  it  is  the  intelligent 
working-men  ;  but  here  it  is  the  most  miserable.  A  revolu- 
tion here  means  a  cry  for  bread,  arson,  robbery  and  violence. 
The  triumph  of  the  people  is  eventually  certain.  The  com- 
ing of  a  revolution  is  first  necessary,  and  a  revolution  here 
means  the  Commune.  Three-quarters  of  the  inhabitants 
of  New  York  are  crowded  into  one-quarter  of  the  buildings 
which  occupy  the  island. 

"The  poor  are  oppressed  by  the  rich,  deceived  by  the 
priests,  and  plundered  by  the  tax-gatherers  and  internal 
revenue  collectors !  The  rich  are  getting  richer,  the  poor 
poorer,  and  until  the  spirit  which  animated  Marat  and  Robes- 
pierre brings  about  a  sweeping  political  and  social  revolu- 
tion here,  there  can  be  no  moral  and  material  ameliorations 
for  the  working-men." 

Herr  Vost  was  the  next  speaker.  During  his  speech  he 
said : 

"Do  they  think  we  are  going  to  remain  quiet  and  allow  our 
friends  to  die  an  ignominious  death?  Arm  yourselves,  and 
for  every  drop  of  blood  that  is  shed  from  our  friends  let  it 
cost  a  human  life.  I  am  not  alone  an  anarchist,  but  also  a 
revolutionist.  Capitalists  shall  be  the  first  to  suflTer.  No 
one  shall  escape  his  just  dues.  The  jurors,  the  judges  and 
detective  spies  will  not  sleep  very  soundly  at  j^resent.  Let 
them  beware."     [Wild  yells  and   cheers  from  the  crowd.] 

"Anarchists,  we  have  no  respect  for  these  laws  by  which  our 
brothers  die.  As  revolutionists  we  are  fearless.  The  time  is 
approaching  when  we  will  be  forced  to  use   firearms." 

Hardly  had  he  concluded,  when  a  young  man  with  blood- 
shot eyes  and  thick  utterance  rose  from  his  seat  and,  raising 
his  glass,  cried : 

"Long  live  the  Commune  !     As  an  American  Communist, 


a 


ETOWAH.  467 

I  drink  to  the  health  of  citizen  Megy  !"  The  group  of  Com- 
munists bowed  to  the  speaker,  and  the  clicking  of  glasses  that 
followed  was  hesitating  at  first,  for  these  men  were  well  dis- 
ciplined and  this  was  as  unexpected  as  it  was  unauthorized 
in  one  who  had  been  sworn  in  only  that  dav.  Besides,  the 
voung  man  was  evidently  intoxicated. 

A  voice  seemed  to  have  been  heard  by  him,  for  he  dropped 
his  glass  upon  the  table  and  tottered  to  the  door,  wildly  look- 
ing in  every  direction,  and  stepped  into  the  street.  Several 
Communists  started  to  follow  him,  when  they  were  arrested 
by  a  sign  from  President  Megy,  who  said  audibly  but  firmly  : 
"Let  him  go  ;  he  is  crazy,  and  can  do  us  no  good.  We  will 
prevent  his  doing  harm  if  necessary." 

He  reached  the  flag-stones  of  the  pavement  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  street  and  fell  upon  the  sidewalk,  exclaim- 
ing: "Great  God!  What  have  I  done?"  His  limbs 
straightened  out  like  a  dead  man's.  A  policeman  came  from 
the  opposite  corner  and  rapidly  approached  the  prostrate  fig- 
ure. He  bent  down,  seized  the  fallen  man's  hand  and 
felt  his  pulse.  Then  casting  it  back  roughly  with  the  excla- 
mation, "drunk !"  he  stepped  aside  and  rapped  with  his  ba- 
ton on  the  pavement  three  times. 

Emile  seemed  in  an  epileptic  fit:  his  limbs  were  drawn 
back  and  forth  convulsively,  and  great  drops  of  perspiration 
clustered  upon  his  brow. 

Finally  Emile  opened  his  eyes,  and  seemed  suddenly  so- 
bered, then  closed  them  again,  saying:  "  I  died  and  went  to 
heaven,  and  saw  Julia." 

The  officers  taking  him  by  the  hands  and  artns  lifted  him 
to  his  feet. 

Then  the  policemen  bore  the  unfortunate  youth  away. 
They  were  followed  by  two  "citizens"  from  the  "society." 


CHAPTER  XLL 


AT    THE    LIBRARY. 


''Night  has  a  thousand  eyes, 

The  day  but  one ; 
Yet  the  light  of  the  whole  world  dies 
'  With  the  setting  sun. 

The  mind  has  a  thousand  eyes, 

The  heart  but  one  ; 
Yet  the  light  of  the  whole  life  dies 

When  love  is  done." 

The  plan  of  Mrs.  LaG range  to  visit  Lake  George  and 
spend  the  summer  in  the  beautiful  region  of  the  Adiron- 
dacks  was  thus  brought  to  a  sudden  termination.  Hardly 
had  Julia  recovered  sufficiently  to  leave  her  room,  when 
Mrs.  LaGrange  entered  the  chamber,  pale  and  almost  speech- 
less. She  held  in  her  hand  a  telegram,  and  sinking  into  a 
chair  she  handed  it  to  Julia.     It  was  as  follows : 


(( 


"  Near  Randall's  Island,  N.  Y. 

Mrs.  LaGrange — Your  son,  Emile  LaGrange,  escaped 
from  the  asylum  last  night  It  is  probable  that  he  is  in 
New  York  city,  and  we  think  it  very  advisable  that  he 
should  be  returned  to  the  Asvlum  for  Inebriates.  If  not 
delayed  too  long,  we  think  the  young  gentleman  may  be 
permanently  restored.  We  respectfully  suggest  that  you  aid 
us  to  effect  his  return.     Respectfully,  etc." 

Again  their  positions  were  reversed.  Julia  was  now  the 
comforter  and  counsellor ;  Mrs.  LaGrange  as  helpless  and 
yielding  as  a  child. 


ETOWAH.  469 

In  a  very  short  time  they  were  en  route  to  New  York; 
and  with  increasing  responsibilities  came  increasing 
strength  to  Julia.  Mrs.  LaGrange  spent  most  of  her  time  in 
her  room  in  one  of  the  hotels,  sick  at  heart  and  perplexed, 
and  unable  to  exert  herself  One  afternoon  Julia,  at  her 
request,  took  the  children  with  her  to  Madison  Square. 
Birds  flitted  from  tree  to  tree,  and  little  children  played  with 
those  under  her  charge.  The  little  girls  now  called  her 
"sister,"  and  she  could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  reprove 
them.  As  she  sat  there  watching  thi^  little  innocents  play- 
ing near  the  great  fountain,  which  cast  its  crystal  gems  atoss 
in  the  sunlight,  a  tall  manly  form  passed  by  her.  His  head 
was  bent  intently  to  his  companion,  a  young  lady,  whose 
arm  clasped  his  in  that  fond,  trusting  manner  which  women 
only  assume  to  those  whom  they  love  most.  She  was  a 
beautiful  girl,  with  graceful,  lissome  figure  and  charming 
appearance  altogether. 

Julia  gave  a  start  as  of  sudden  recognition ;  surely  she 
knew  that  stalwart  form  and  that  deep,  earnest  voice  which 
said  as  he  rapidly  walked  past,  "  My  darling,  you  must 
go  with  me;  I  can't  go  without  you,"  and  then  the  couple 
was  lost  amid  the  throng  which  passed  through  Madison 
Square. 

Julia  sat  like  an  inanimate  figure,  with  blanched  cheeks 
and  hands  closely  clenched  in  sudden  anguish. 

"  Et  tu  Brute ! "  And  thou,  Brutus !  Of  all  the  men  on 
earth  she  had  trusted  Colonel  Barnum  as  a  man,  like  Caesar's 
wife,  ''  above  suspicion."  Of  all  men  he  would  be  steadfast 
and  true,  and  no  other  woman  could  ever  hope  to  claim  Col- 
onel Barnum's  heart,  which  she  had  felt  was  exclusively 
hers.  And  this,  too,  in  spite  of  her  repeated  rejections  of  his 
ardent  and  long-continued  suit.     "  Did   he  not  declare  that 


470  ETOWAH. 

he  would  always  love  me,  and  me  only  ?  "  she  asked  herself. 
"Did  he  not  urge  me  to  answer  immediately,  so  that  he 
could  put  as  great  a  distance  as  possible  between  us  if  I  did 
not  reciprocate  his  love?  How  could  I  remain  quiet — re- 
fuse to  tell  him  all  that  I  Ipnged  to  tell  him  until  I  drove 
him  away  from  me  forever!  Alas!  who  and  what  am 
I?"  Around  her  sat  the  Irish  nurses  and  French  Bonnes, 
who  spoke  to  her  at  first  as  if  she  were  one  of  their  own  class, 
until  she  turned  her  lovely  face  to  them  and  replied  with 
that  indefinable  courtesy  and  dignity  which  at  once  distin- 
guish the  lad}^  from  the  servant.  They  changed  their  man- 
ner instantly,  but  looked  curiously  at  her  occasionally,  and 
whispered  among  themselves  concerning  this  strange  lady 
who  seemed  to  assume  the  role  of  nurse. 

Now  she  seemed  oblivious  to  all  around  her,  and  gazed  into 
the  waters  of  the  fountain  as  if  to  search  after  some  hidden 
mystery  which  environed  her  life.  "  My  darling,  you  must 
go  with  me;  I  can't  go  without  you."  These  words  sounded 
again  and  again  like  a  threatening  echo ;  and  the  more  she 
dwelt  on  them  the  more  mysterious  and  unaccountable  the}^ 
seemed.  The  birds  twitted  as  blithely,  the  children  were  as 
joyous  as  they,  but  a  great  pall  seemed  to  be  shrouding  her 
heart.  "Was  she  his  wife?  Is  he  married?  But  tivo 
months  have  passed  since  he  bade  me  farewell  in  New  Or- 
leans. .  Ah !  If  he  only  knew  my  heart — if  he  only  knew 
how  dearly  I  have  paid  for  the  diffidence  which  prevented 
my  telling  him  how  much  I  loved  him." 

"  Come,  sister  dear,  the  sun  is  setting,  and  mama  is  alone^ 
you  know,"  said  little  Marie,  throwing  her  arms  around 
Julia's  neck  and  kissing  her  afiectionately. 

"  Tum  along,  sis;  mama  sick,"  said  the  youngest  child. 


ETOWAH. 


471 


"  Bless  your  dear  little  hearts!  "  said  Julia,  taking  them  by 
the  hand  and  leading  them  away. 

The  Irish  girls  exchanged  glances  significantly ;  one  point- 
ed to  her  head  and  ejaculated,  "Dazed?" 

"No,"  said  another;  " misfortunate ;  that  is  all." 

"You  are  both  wrong,"  said  a  third;  "she  is  a  lady — a 
Southern  lady  what  used  to  own  a  hape  o'  nagurs ;  now  she 
has  to  serve  out  loike  any  other  poor  folk." 

"  That's  a  mistake,"  said  a  fourth ;  "  she  is  the  sister  of  the 
little  girls.     I  heard  them  speak  to  her." 

"Whatever  she  may  be,"  said  another,  "she's  a  born  lady 
with  a  good  heart ;  see  how  she  walks.  The  Princess  of 
Wales  can't  beat  her  for  looks !  " 

These  comments  would  have  been  utterly  lost  upon  Julia, 
even  had  she  heard  them.  As  it  was,  she  walked  like  one 
in  a  trance,  so  unconscious  of  the  admiring  glances  cast 
upon  her  that  her  modest  mien  attracted  attention  and 
friendly  criticism. 

in  all  large  cities,  beautiful  girls  have  to  pass  through  the 
trying  ordeal  of  being  gazed  at  and  stared  at  by  rude  men. 
But  it  was  a  new  experience  to  Julia  Bearing,  whose  cheeks 
had  often  burned  with  indignation,  for  she  had  been  raised 
where  the  respect  for  the  gentler  sex  is  the  most  prominent 
characteristic.  On  this  occasion,  however,  she  did  not  seem 
to  see  anything  to  avoid,  but  the  thought  uppermost  in  her 
mind  she  confided  to  no  one. 

Mrs.  LaGrange  observed  her  changed  manner,  and  it  was  a 
relief  to  her  to  endeavor  to  cheer  her  young  friend. 

"  Julia,  I  fear  you  are  taxing  your  strength  too  much.  I  will 
take  the  children  with  me  this  evening  to  the  concert ;  it  is 
possible  I  might  find  Emile  there.  He  used  to  be  very  fond 
of  music,  and  I   learned   at   the  bank   that  he  drew  all  the 


472  ETOWAH. 

money  he  had  on  deposit  two  weeks  ago.  The  cashier  in- 
formed me  that  his  manner  was  quiet  and  natural — and  oh ! 
I  am  so  hopeful  that  I  will  have  my  son  returned  to  me 
free  from  the  terrible  sin  of  intemperance." 

The  afternoon  was  oppressively  hot.  At  New  York  in 
midsummer  the  days  are  an  hour  longer  than  in  Etowah, 
and  there  is  an  hour  longer  for  the  heat  to  accumulate  from 
the  rays  of  the  sun,  and  one  hour  less  time  at  night  for  the 
heat  to  be  carried  off  by  radiation.  Hence  these  Southern 
ladies  suffered  more  from  the  heat  than  they  would  have 
done  at  home. 

After  a  restless  night  Julia  threw  open  the  window  of  her 
room  in  the  quiet  and  sumptuous  hotel  at  Lafayette  Place, 
and  looked  out  upon  the  serene  heavens.  With  a  weary 
sigh  she  exclaimed,  ''  Since  it  has  come  to  this,  I  wish  it  was 
my  time  to  go  there,  where  all  trouble  at  least  will  cease.  I 
am  already  useless  here,  for  a  good  strong  servant  could  take 
my  place,  except  the  place  I  have  in  Mrs.  LaGrange's  heart 
and  the  hearts  of  her  dear  little  daughters.  Other  teachers 
more  competent  than  I  am  will  take  my  place,  and  I  feel  I 
must  again  seek  occupation,  or  this  dull  pain  in  my  head 
will    wreck  my  brain.'" 

She  shuddered.  ''No,  no  !  I  am  stronger  than  that;  grief 
does  not  kill,  nor  will  misfortune  be  charitable  enough  to 
slay  ;  but  does  it  make  people  worse  or  better  ?  Am  I  as  fit 
to  die,  as  fit  to  live,  as  when  riches  were  at  my  disposal  and 
buoyant  health  made  physical  effort  necessary  ?  I  was 
happy  then,  and  all  my  time  was  occupied — in  what  man- 
ner ?  It  matters  not ;  occupation  is  the  only  panacea  for  such 
distress  as  mine.  Occupation  I  must  have,  and  it  must  be 
mental,  creative  and  subjective  onlv  to  will.  What  shall  I 
do?" 


ETOWAH.  473 

Fortunately  Mrs.  LaGrange  entered  at  this  moment  and 
said  :  "You  do  not  look  refreshed,  Julia,  after  your  rest  last 
night.  I  hope  you  will  not  succumb  to  the  dreadful  heat. 
But  for  my  premonition  that  Emile  is  here,  in  this  city,  and 
needs  mv  love  and  care,  and  that  I  will  find  him  here 
sooner  or  later,  I  would  insist  upon  going  to  Lake  George 
immediately.  You,  my  child,  are  as  dear  to  me  as  my 
own  children  are,  and  I  will  take  exclusive  control  of  the 
children  for  the  present." 

"Thank  you;  you  are  too  kind  and  good  to  me,"  Julia  replied. 
"I  willsta}^  here  as  long  as  you  wish  to  remain.  I  do  not  need 
rest,  but  action ;  sometimes  work  is  rest.  I  will  accept  your 
kind  ofier  and  spend  my  morning  hours  in  the  library  over 
there,  and  when  vou  need  me,  vou  can  send  one  of  mv  little 
sisters  for  me." 

Nothing  touched  Mrs.  LaGrange's  heart  so  much  as  an 
allusion  to  her  adopted  relationship  by  Julia.  She  placed 
her  arms  around  the  fair  young  girl  and  drew  her  to  her, 
exclaiming,  as  she  had  done  during  her  sickness,  "My  child, 
my  child,  my  precious  child  !" 

Two  weeks  had  passed  since  she  saw  Colonel  Barnum  in 
Madison  Square. 

The  strain  upon  her  nervous  system  was  becoming  too 
severe,  and  Julia  Bearing's  brave  self-reliance  seemed  about 
to  succumb. 

"Shall  I  give  up  all  effort  now?  No  ;  that  would  prove 
me  unworthv  of  success ;  what  other  women  have  accom- 
plished  can  I  not  accomplish?  The  fields  of  occupation 
for  women  are  restricted  to  the  needle  and  literature.  I 
would  pine  away  with  the  first,  'but  I  will  take  that  occupa- 
tion  if  the  second  fails  me." 

Then  she  went  to  the  window   and   placed   her  hands  up 


474  ETOWAH. 

against  it  intending  to  look  ont  into  the  street  in  order  to 
see  something  which  might  change  the  current  of  her 
thoughts.  A  strolling  minstrel  with  his  hurdy-gurdy  and 
monkey  were  entertaining  a  group  of  children  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  street,  but  that  was  not  the  cause  of  her  sudden 
agitation  ;  the  hand  which  was  between  her  and  the  sun- 
light, resting  on  the  transparent  glass,  was  thin,  and  white 
and  transparent  almost  as  the  glass  itself.  Time  after  time 
she  had  changed  her  dress  to  suit  her  figure,  which  was  growing 
thinner  with  alarming  rapidity.  She  stood  before  the  mirror 
and  looked  at  her  features,  and  was  shocked  to  see  how  thin 
and  pale  her  face  was.  "I  am  absolutely  ugly  !"she  exclaim- 
ed. She  had  been  so  much  absorbed  in  her  studies  recently 
that  this  change  had  escaped  her  attention.  Mrs.  LaGrange 
had  noticed  it,  but  not  anxiously,  for  when  one  is  constant- 
ly  associated  with  an  invalid,  one  does  not  notice  the  slow 
but  steady  inroads  of  disease. 

She  had  become  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  Astor  Library, 
which  was  opposite  the  hotel.  She  went  there  the  next  day,  and 
selecting  a  seat  near  a  window,  she  asked  the  attendant  to 
give  her  the  history  of  Mexico  by  the  Abbe  Brasseur. 

"Will  you  have  it  in  French  or  the  English  translation  ?" 
he  asked. 

"I  prefer  it  as  originally  written,  in  French,  if  you  please.'' 

The  rules  of  the  library  prohibit  any  one  from  taking  any 
book  from  the  reading-rooms.  Julia  took  the  four  volumes 
to  a  table  near  by  and  examined  them  carefully  ;  then  she 
selected  the  fourth  volume  to  read  first. 

So  interested  was  she  that  she  did  not  hear  a  book  fall  from 
the  hand  of  a  gentleman  who  sat  at  a  table  not  far  distant. 

Colonel  Barnum,  now  an  attorney  at  law,  practicing  in 
New  York  city,  had   come   to   the   library  to  consult  some 


ETOWAH.  475 

legal  work,  which  he  could  not  find  as  coveniently  else- 
where. 

Two  months  had  changed  her  greatly,  but  he  recognized 
her ;  he  had  been  reading  for  sometime  and  was  almost  ready 
to  return  the  book  from  which  he  had  taken  copious  notes, 
when,  on  lifting  his  head,  his  eyes  fell  upon  Julia  Bearing  still 
intently  reading.  The  double  shock  of  seeing  her,  whom  he 
had  left  so  tremulously  in  New  Orleans,  here  in  New  York, 
and  seeing  her  thus  with  all  the  appearance  of  a  consump- 
tive, so  startled  him  that  he  dropped  his  book. 

She  did  not  hear  it,  or,  hearing,  did  not  heed  it. 

For  a  few  moments  he  was  unable  to  do  more  than  watch 
her  with  that  intensity  which  only  a  lover  knows,  and  then, 
as  silently  as  possible,  he  walked  to  where  she  was,  and  stand- 
ing before  her  said  :  "  Miss  Julia,  I  am  glad  to  see  you."  She 
looked  up  and  saw  him,  trembled,  held  out  her  hand,  but 
could  not  speak  for  fear  the  tears  would  drown  her  voice  in 
sobs.  She  felt  instinctively,  from  his  pleading  look,  though 
in  the  presence  of  strangers,  that  he  loved  her  as  devotedly  as 
ever,  but  it  was  all  a  mystery  to  her,  for  she  remembered  the 
scene  in  Madison  Square,  and  heard  again  his  endearing 
words  to  the  young  lady  at  his  side. 

"May  I  ask  what  you  are  reading?"  said  he,  for  he  noticed 
the  curious  glances  which  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  present 
cast  upon  them,  and  he  wished  to  spare  her  feelings  as  much 
as  possible. 

She  smiled  gratefully  and  said:  "Certainly;  it  is  a  history 
of  Mexico  by  a  French  Abbe,  who  made  the  subject  his  study 
for  eighteen  years,  during  many  of  which  he  lived  in  the 
country.  I  think  European  historians  excel  those  of  Amer- 
ica greatly,  in  that  they  do  thoroughly  whatever  they  un- 
dertake.    Don't  you  agree  with  me  ?" 


476  ETOWAH. 

"  I  hope  you  will  permit  me  to  accompany  you  to "'  he 

hesitated — he  would  not  intentionally  say  a  word  to  wound 
her  feelings.  She  interpreted  his  considerate  delicacy  and 
immediately  said : 

"I  will  be  happy  to  have  you  do  so ;  we  are  boarding  just 
across  the  street,  or  'way,'  as  you  Northerners  term  it,  at 
the  Oriental  Hotel,  and  I  am  sure  that  Mrs.  LaGrange  will 
be  delighted  to  make  your  acquaintance." 

The  books  were  retiirned  a  few  moments  later,  and  the 
couple  left  the  library.  Even  then,  wasted  as  Julia  was,  her 
manner  and  appearance  were  so  distinguished  that  every  eye 
was  turned  to  see  her  leave  the  room. 

"Who  is  she  ?"  said  one  to  the  clerk. 

"  I  don't  know — a  Southern  lady,  I  think.  She  is  certain- 
ly the  most  charming  lady  we  have  had  here  in  a  long  time." 

They  met  Mrs.  LaGrange,  and  Barnum  conversed  with 
her  formally  for  a  few  moments  at  the  door.  As  he  lifted 
his  hat  and  bade  them  good-day,  he  said  to  Julia  :  "'Miss 
Julia,  I  will  call  this  evening  after  tea ;  I  have  something 
very  important  to  tell  you,  and  do  not  wish  to  postpone  it 
another  da  v." 

Julia  bowed  politely,  but  did  not  reply.  The  poor  girl's 
heart  sank  again  as  she  thought :  "He  is  engaged  to,  or  mar- 
ried to  another,  and  yet  T  know  he  loves  me  ;  will  my  trials 
never  end?" 

They  were  alone  in  the  great  parlor  and  the  windows 
were  thrown  open  to  admit  the  air.  The  conversation 
still  had  been  formal  and  polite,  for  Barnum,  seeing  how 
feeble  she  was,  wished  to  prepare  her  gradually  for  what  he 
was  about  to  communicate. 

"They  are  dear  little  children,  and  I  love  them  as  if  they 


ETOWAH.  "  477 

were  my  sisters,"  said  Julia,  as  the  little  girls  kissed  her  good- 
night, and  retiring,  left  them  alone. 

"  Miss  Julia,  are  you  strong  enough  to  hear  some  good 
news  ?"  said  he,  leaning  toward  her.  His  voice  was  tremu- 
lous with  emotion,  and  his  tone  was  indescribably  gentle,  as 
were  his  eyes,  which  shone  with  the  old  love-light. 

'*I  am  always  glad  to  hear  good  news  concerning  you,  Col- 
<mel  Barnum.  I  am  sure  no  one  better  deserves  happiness 
than  yourself.  Perhaps  it  will  not  surprise  me  as  much  as 
you  think  ;  I  saw  her  once ;  she  is  very  beautiful." 

"Miss  Julia,  what  on  earth  are  you  talking  about  ?  said  he, 
unconsciously  placing  one  hand  on  her  arm.  "You  do  not 
suppose  that  I  love  any  one  on  earth  but  you  ?" 

"I  hope  so,  Colonel  Barnum,"  almost  inaudibly,  for  she 
was  surelv  beino-  tried  in  the  crucible  now. 

"Do  not  say  that,  Miss  Julia  ;  anything  but  that.  After 
all  that  I  have  done  to  win  your  love  ;  after  all  my  vain  ef- 
forts to  find  you  again — now  that  I  have  found  you,  do  not, 
T  pray  you,  dash  my  hopes  to  the  ground  and  wreck  my 
happiness  forever!" 

"  Mr.  Barnum,  are  you  free  to  express  yourself  thus  to  me 
without  dishonoring  your  plighted  word  to  another?"  She 
said  this  with  her  old  haughty  manner,  and  looked  him  in  the 
eyes  tranquilly,  while  her  heart  was  beating  as  if  to  burst 
its  bounds. 

He  sank  upon  his  knees — not  to  court  her,  he  was  incapa- 
ble of  such  weakne-s  as  that — but  unconsciously,  and  only 
in  order  to  have  his  head  and  face  even  with  hers,  and  to  see 
the  better. 

"  Miss  Julia,"  he  said,  "  I  swear  to  you  no  other  woman 
on  earth  has  any  claim  upon  my  love  but  you.  I  swear  to 
you,  by  all  that  is  worth  living  for  jmd  dying  for,  that  since 


478  ETOWAH. 

the  day  I  first  told  you  I  loved  you,  no  other  woman  has 
ever  possessed  one  scintilla  of  my  love,  which  from  that  day 
has  been  wholly  given  to  you.  To  have  borne  the  disap- 
pointment which  has  brooded  over  my  heart  so  long,  and 
which  but  for  my  duty  to  my  parents  and  my  sister,  might 
have  crushed  out  my  ambition,  was  hard  indeed ;  but  this — 
this  is  the  most  painful  moment  of  my  life !"  She  curbed 
her  feelings  and  said  nothing.  He  continued  :  "Two  months 
ago  I  received  a  letter  from  Colonel  Leslie  urging  me  to  find 
you,  and  stating  that  you  had  been  discovered  to  be  the  sole 
heir  to  all  the  property  left  b}''  Major  Blount  at  his  death  ; 
also  that  a  former  debtor  of  your  father's  had  paid  him  ^20, 
000  for  his  heirs  if  any  were  left.  With  my  sister  I  went  to 
New  Orleans  and  vainly  sought  for  you.  I  was  told  by  Mrs. 
LaGrange's  servants  that  she  had  gone  with  you  to  Lake 
George  for  the  summer,  I  went  to  Lake  George;  you  had 
not  been  there.     I  saw  you  yesterday.     You  know  all  now." 

"It  was  your  sister,  then!"  she  murmured,  and  placing 
her  hands  on  his  head,  she  drew  his  face  up  to  hers  and  kissed 
him — kissed  him  as  a  wife  would  kiss  a  husband  from  whom 
she  had  been  separated  for  long  years.  "I  have  suffered  more 
than  you  have,  Mr.  Ba.rnum,  for  I  have  loved  you  since  the 
day  you  protected  me  in  the  storm.  Take  me  to  your  heart 
now,  for  there  would  I  make  my  home,  if  you  still  love  a 
poor,  feeble,  ugly  creature  as  I  am  now." 

The  child  a  moment  before — as  dependent  upon  this 
frail  girl  for  love  as  a  child  ever  was  upon  its  mother — was  a 
strongman  again.  And  long  and  sweetly  did  they  talk  as 
he  clasped  her  hand  in  his. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


AT    THRONATEESKA. 


"The  negroes  don't  shock  me  or  excite  my  compassionate 
feelings  at  all.  They  are  so  grotesque  and  happy  that  I  can't 
cry  over  them.  The  little  black  imps  are  trotting  and  grin- 
ning about  the  streets,  women,  workmen,  waiters,  all  well  fed 
and  happy.  The  place,  the  merriest  little  place,  and  the  most 
picturesque  I  have  seen  in  America." 

Clara  had  read  this  aloud,  and  Latane,  laying  down  his 
paper,  asked : 

"Of  whom  are  you  reading,  Clara?" 

"  I  am  reading  Thackeray's  letter,  w^ritten  from  Richmond, 
Virginia,  on  his  first  visit  to  America  in  1852,  and  it  ex- 
presses opinions  directly  opposite  to  those  in  this  book." 

"And  that  book,"  replied  Latane,  "was  written  only  the 
year  before.  One  is  the  opinion  of  a  disinterested  loreigner, 
speak  ingfrom  personal  observation  ;  the  other  of  a  sincere  but 
prejudiced,  American,  writing  in  consonance  with  the  polit- 
ical opinions  of  the  majority  of  the  people,  not  only  of  the 
United  States,  but  of  the  civilized  world." 

"  Then  you  mean  to  say  that  the  author  of  'Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin'  is  right,  and  the  great  English  writer  wrong;  is  that 
what  you  mean?" 

"  Abstractly— as  an  abstract  proposition,  yes;  as  a  matter 
of  justice  and  right,  no." 

"Mr.  Latane,  you  confuse  me  by  your  'abstractly,'  etc.; 
please  explain  yourself  fully.  I  am  greatly  interested  in  that 
book." 


480  ETOWAH. 

Latane  smiled  as  he  answered : 

"  I  mean  that  slavery,  as  a  permanent  institution,  is  con- 
trary to  the  spirit  of  the  age  in  which  we  live — contrary  to 
Christianity,  I  may  say.  The  English  enfranchised  all  the 
slaves  in  their  colonies  in  1833,  and  in  1848  the  French  did 
likewise.  True,  the  owners  were  compensated,  and  the  mas- 
racresof  St.  Domingo  followed  emancipation  there.  Though 
it  is  maintained  throughout  Asia  and  Africa,  it  does  not  ex- 
ist in  Europe,  and  the  people  of  the  United  States  are  of 
European  descent,  and  deny  to  the  Mongolian  the  right  of  the 
suffrage.  But  as  to  the  African — -per  se,  the  Congo  negro — 
there  is  no  doubt  about  it,  slavery  in  America  was  a  great 
boon  to  him,  and  it  was  the  only  means  by  which  he  could 
be  civilized.  Let  me  see  what  you  are  reading,"  said  he,  as 
he  concluded  this  oracular  speech. 

The  page  turned  to  at  random  in  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin" 
was  as  follows :  ''But  suppose  we  should  rise  up  to-morrow 
and  emancipate,  who  would  educate  these  millions  and  teach 
them  how  to  use  their  freedom?  And  tell  me  now,  is  there 
enough  Christian  philanthrophy  among  your  Northern 
States  to  bear  with  the  process  of  their  education  and  eleva- 
tion ?  You  send  thousands  of  dollars  to  foreign  missions, 
but  could  you  endure  to  have  these  heathens  sent  into  your 
towns  and  villages,  and  give  your  time  and  thoughts  and 
money  to  raise  them  to  the  Christian  standard?*  That's 
what  I  want  to  know.  If  we  emancipate,  are  you  willing 
to  educate  ?" 

"How  many  families  in  your  town  would  take  in  a  negro 
man  and  woman  as  equals,  teach  them,  bear  with  them,  and 
seek  to  make  them  Christians?  How  many  merchants 
would  take  Adolph  if  I  wanted  to  make  him  a  clerk,  or  me- 
chanic, or  if  I  wanted  him  taught  a  trade  ?  If  I  wanted  to  put 


ETOWAH.  481 

Jane  and  Rosa  to  school,  how  many  schools  are  there  in  the 
Northern  States  that  would  take  them  in  ?  How  many  fam- 
ilies that  would  board  them  ?"  He  had  read  it  aloud,  and 
as  he  concluded  he  laughed  quietly  and  said :  "Indeed,  this 
book  is  its  own  best  critic.  That  question  is  as  appropriate 
now  as  it  was  in  1851,  when  this  book  was  written.  What 
do  you  think  of  what  I  have  just  read,  Clara?" 

"I  can  only  judge  from  what  we  have  seen  during  our 
annual  visits  North,  and  the  opinions  expressed  by  our  North- 
ern guests." 

''In  no  Northern  State  or  city,"  he  replied,  "is  there  a 
family  of  first-class  social  standing  who  would  accept  negroes, 
even  such  as  those  described  in  the  above  chapter,  on  terms 
of  social  equality.  Even  in  the  schools,  the  people  generally 
demand  that  there  shall  be  separate  schools  for  black  and 
white  children  in  all  the  Northern  States  to-day.  Wait  a 
moment,  Clara,  and  I  will  read  you  something  on  this  sub- 
ject which  I  wish  I  could  read  to  the  Northern  people." 
Then,  going  to  the  library,  he  took  two  books  therefrom,  and 
from  the  smaller  one  read  as  follows:  "The  report  of  the 
School  Committee  of  Boston,  in  1845,  on  the  petition  to 
abolish  the  separate  public  schools  for  black  children,  stated, 
in  support  of  its  refusal  to  adopt  the  suggestion  : 

"The  distinction  is  one  of  races,  not  of  color  merely."  The 
distinction  is  one  which  an  all-wise  Creator  has  seen  fit  to 
establish.  No  legislation,  no  social  customs  can  efface  this 
distinction."  The  committee  also  held  that  "the  less  the  col- 
ored and  white  people  became  intermingled  the  better  it  will 
be  for  both  races." 

Then  he  opened  the  larger  volume,  and  added :  "Now, 
Clara,  I  will  read  something  to  show  that  the  Boston ians  are 

31 


482  ETOWAH. 

correct  in  this  opinion.     In  Madagascar,  inhabited  by  5,000, 
000  people,  missionary  efforts  began  in  1818.     The  king  fav- 
ored them.     He  died  in  1828,  and  his  queen,  who  succeeded 
him,  drove  the  missionaries  from  the  island  and  slaughtered 
2,000  of  her  subjects  who  had  enbraced  the  new  religion.  She 
died  in  1861,  and  her  son  succeeded  to  the  throne.    He  invited 
the  missionaries  back,   and   was   put   to   death   by  his  ow^n 
nobles.     His  queen  was  crowned  under   a  written  constitu- 
tion guaranteeing  the  fullest  religious  liberty.     She  died  in 
1868,  and  died  as  an  idolater.     The  people  worship  twelve  or 
fifteen  principal  idols,  and  have  a  vague  belief  in  a  Supreme 
God  and  of  an  evil  principle.      They  are   much  addicted  to 
divination.     And  yet,"  he  continued,   "the  island  was  made 
known  to  Europeans  by    Marco   Polo   in  the   13th  century 
two  hundred  years  before  America  was  discovered.     It  was 
settled  in  the  16th  century  by  the  Portuguese,  and  in  the  17th 
century  by  the  French  and  English.     Still  Northern  fanatics 
assert  that  the  only    difference  between   the   negro  and  the 
Caucasian  is  one  of  color.     Since   our   slaves   were  emanci- 
pated Ave  have  done  our  own  thinking,  and  determined  that 
these  Southern  States   shall   not   relapse   into  the  mongrel 
barbarism  of  Morocco,  or  Madagascar,  Mexico,  or  Cuba,  under 
the   banner  of  miscegenation.      Caucasian   supremacy   has 
been  maintained,  and  now  immigration  will  solve  the  prob- 
lem in  the  future." 

"  Well,"  said  Clara,  "what  do  you  consider  the  most  sug- 
gestive thing  in  '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  ?  '  " 

"  I  think,"  he  answ^ered,  "that  the  Ohio  State  Senator,  who 
aided  George  Harris  and  Eliza  to  escape  from  their  owners, 
would  have  been  'tarred  and  feathered,'  besides  being  heav- 
ily fined,  had  he  aided  the  whits  slaves,  not  to  speak  of  their  • 


ETOWAH.  483 

negro   slaves,  in  the  North  to  escape  from  their  masters  in 
the  same  way." 

"  White  slaves !  and  in  the  North  ?  "  she  answered.  "  I 
never  heard  of  such  a  thing  before.  Were  there  ever  any 
white  slaves  in  the  Northern  States?" 

'•  Yes,"  he  answered,  ''and  they  were  just  as  harshly  treated 
as  our  slaves  were.  The  legal  status  of  these  'term 
slaves'"  was  represented  by  the  word  'redemptioner.'  There 
were  two  kinds  of  redemptioners- 'indented  servants,'  who 
had  bound  themselves  to  their  masters  for  a  term  of  years 
previous  to  leaving  Europe,  and  'free-willers,'  who  allowed 
themselves  to  be  sold  on  arrival  to  defray  the  cost  of  pas- 
sage to  America.  Agreements  were  entered  into  whereby 
they  bound  themselves  that  they  could  be  thus  sold  for  a 
term  of  years  of  tedious  labor  and  servitude.  The  usual 
price  paid  in  Pennsylvania  for  three  years  service  was  £21, 
Is.  6d.  Children  were  sold  for  £8.  to  £10.  In  New  Jersey 
no  white  servant,  if  sold  or  bound  after  seventeen  years  of 
age,  could  serve  above  four  years.  If  under  that  age  they 
were  to  be  free  on  reaching  their  majority.  The  laws  against 
aiding  'redemptionists'  to  escape  were  very  severe.  A  fine 
of  £5  was  imposed  ior  offering  assistance  in  such  cases,  and 
the  aider  and  abetter  was  obliged  to  make  full  satisfaction 
to  master  and  mistress  for  all  loss,  damage  or  cost  sustained 
by  the  absence  of,  or  search  for  the  runaway.  Any  one 
who  concealed  or  entertained  an  absconding  redemptioner, 
could  be  fined,  at  the  discretion  of  the  court,  and  be  made  to 
pay  ten  shillings  to  the  owner  for  each  day  he  had  harbored 
the  servant. 

"  Now,  why  did  not  the  Northern  people  rise  in  virtuous 
indignation  and  set  free  these  oppressed  people  without  pay- 
ing their  owners   anything   and  extol    to  the  skies  a  Sena- 


484  ETOWAH. 

tor  who  would  violate  the  law  of  his  State,  which  law  he 
had  aided  to  enact,  by  harboring  and  aiding  to  escape  fu- 
gitive slaves  ?  In  all  that  book,  there  is  nothing  more  art- 
fully designed  to  show  the  irrepressible  nobility  of  the  abo- 
litionist's soul  who  would  thus  steal  another  man's  property 
and  show  thus  his  own  generosity.  The  act  did  not  cost  him 
a  dollar,  and  he  incurred  no  personal  nor  pecuniary  risk, 
but  he  robbed  the  lawful  owner  of  those  slaves  of  two  thou- 
sand dollars  by  a  ride  at  night  at  the  cost  of  his  personal 
discomfort  only." 

''  Mr.  Latane,  would  you  not  have  done  the  same  thing? 
I  know  that  you  would!"  she  answered. 

"  Very  probably  I  would,"  he  replied,  "but  I  would  have 
made  the  matter  so  prominently  known  that  the  owner 
would  have  been  apprised,  so  that  he  might  sue  me  for  dam- 
ages. A  few  cases  like  that  might  have  caused  Congress  to 
appreciate  the  injustice  of  enforced  emancipation  without 
any  proposition  looking  to  compensation  to  the  owners  " 

"I  confess  I  dont  understand  the  subject,"  said  Clara, 
"but  old  'Uncle'  Dougherty  told  me  yesterday  that  he  had 
visited  New  York,  Boston,  and  Washington  frequently, 
while  a  slave,  and  yet  he  resisted  all  propositions  to  flee  to 
Canada  and  thus  become  a  freeman." 

"Did  he  tell  you  why  he  refused?"  asked  her  husband. 

"  No;  do  you  know  why  he  did  so  !  " 

"  Old  Dougherty,"  said  Latane,  "has  been  a  famous  barber 
for  forty  years.  He  paid  my  father,  and  after  his  death  paid 
my  mother,  fifty  dcdlars  a  year  for  his  own  time.  He  accu- 
mulated money  rapidly  ;  owned  the  store  in  which  was  his 
barber-shop,  and  was  worth  from  two  to  four  thousand  dol- 
lars in  I860,  and  yet  he  declined  to  buy  his  freedom.     Now, 


ETOWAH.  485 

Clara,  show  that  it  is  worth  while  for  women  to  study  math- 
ematics by  explaining  this." 

"I  give  it  up;"  she  answered:  "the  conundrum  is  too 
hard  for  me." 

"  It  is  very  simple ;  he  would  have  had  to  support  his 
family  if  he  bought  their  freedom,  whereas,  as  a  slave,  he 
had  no  one  to  support  but  himself." 

But  in  spite  of  Clara's  efforts  to  follow  his  arguments 
closely,  the  interest  of  the  wife  was  supplanted  by  that  of 
the  mother,  and  she  would  occasionally  interrupt  him  by 
addressing  some  caressing  speech  in  an  impossible  language 
to  the  little  toddler  on  the  rug,  who  seemed  determined  to 
throw  her  diamond  ring  in  the  fire.  Only  mothers  can  ex- 
plain why  such  treasures  are  entrusted  to  infants. 

"Your  mother  owned  two  hundred  slaves,"  she  said  ;  "  my 
father  owned  five  hundred.  I  am  very  sure  that  I  never 
saw  one  shackled  and  wearing  chains.  Have  you  ever  seen 
a  negro  slave  in  chains  who  was  not  convicted  of  a  penal  of- 
fense, Mr.  Latane?" 

"  Upon  my  word  I  never  did  ;  and  of  all  our  slaves,  I  never 
saw  but  one  in  chains,  and  that  was  poor  Hallback ;  he  has 
worked  as  a  convict  for  seventeen  years  now." 

"Poor  Hallback !  Mr.  Latane,  why  don't  you  stand  for 
the  Legislature,  and  endeavor  to  repeal  that  odious  convict 
lease  system?     I  wish  you  would." 

Latane  arose  from  his  luxurious  chair,  and  going  to  his 
wife  caressed  her  gently,  and  then  said :  "That  has  been 
already  decided  by  the  county,  and  without  my^  knowledge 
until  it  was  done.  I  have  been  nominated  for  the  House  of 
Representatives." 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?    It  is  too  bad !" 

Latane,  with  an  amused  look,  answered  :  "Now  let  me  put 


486 


ETOWAH, 


a  question  to  you.  You  have  read  the  newspaper  daily,  I 
suppose,  as  a  dutiful  wife  of  an  editor  should.  Assuming 
that  you  have,  why  is  it  that  you  have  not  noticed  the  an- 
nouncement ?  It  was  published  weeks  ago,  and  the  election 
will  take  place  next  week." 

"I  declare,  it  is  abominable!"  she  answered.  "You  know 
ladies  don't  care  anything  about  politics,  and  hence  don't 
read  about  it.     Is  it  true?" 

"It  certainly  is  a  fact,  "  he  replied. 

She  was  very  proud  of  her  handsome  and  talented  husband, 
and  felt  that  no  official  prominence  could  be  too  great  for 
him.  He,  on  the  contrary,  was  superior  to  the  small  ambi- 
tion of  becoming  a  big  man  in  a  small  place,  and,  but  for 
the  subject  suggested  by  her,  and  which  had  been  one  of 
constant  and  absorbing  interest  to  him  for  many  years,  he 
would  have  declined  the  nomination. 

"Now,  Clara,  revenons  d  nos  moutons,  as  the  French  say, 
what  do  you  consider  the  most  striking  feature  in  'Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin  ?'   said  Latane. 

"I  think  the  author  has  given  too  much  refinement  and 
genius  to  George  Harris,  and  that  such  a  negro  inventor  of 
a  valuable  labor-saving  machine  was  never  doomed  to 
abandon  his  rank  as  a  mechanic  and  forced  to  follow  a 
plow  instead.  The  work  of  a  mechanic,  the  world  over, 
is  more  valuable  than  that  of  a  plowman." 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "and  you  may  go  farther ;  the  'George 
Harris'  pictured  there  never  existed.  The  negro  race  in  these 
Southern  States  has  now  been  emancipated  from  slavery 
eighteen  years,  and  yet,  the  patent  office  in  Washington 
City  will  not  show  one  important  invention  made  during  all 
that  time  by  any  one  of  these  four  millions  and  a  half  of 
emancipated    slaves.      Lo !    the     poor    negro !      No ;    Mrs. 


ETOWAH.  487 

Stowe,  is  a  very  estimable,  charitable  and  talented  woman, 
and   her  book    did   more  to   bring  about  a   speedy   eman 
cipation   by   war  than   any  other  one   agency,  but  she  has 
sadly  exaggerated." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  "  said  Clara.  "I  am  sure  that  I  never 
heard  of  a  ruffianly  planter  and  slave-owner  like  the  man 
Legree  which  she  has  so  startlingly  portrayed." 

'Well,  my  dear,  we  may  console  ourselves  with  the  re- 
flection that  Legree  was  born  in  Maine,  and  is  not  represented 
as  a  typical  Southern  planter.  But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  T 
never  knew  a  planter  who  resembled  him." 

Just  then  the  rioor-bell  rang  and  Latane  went  to  the  door 
him?elf.  It  was  a  bright,  crisp  winter  night  and  the  snow 
covered  the  ground,  but  he  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing 
the  warmly  clad,  lovely  woman  who  was  accompanied  by  her 
husband.  General  Bruton  Stewart. 

"My  little  sister !"  was  all  that  Latane  said,  as  he  drew  her 
to  him  and  kissed  her  affectionately,  and  then  ushered  them 
into  the  sitting-room. 

"Fair  play  is  a  jewel,  Latane;  you  kissed  my  wife  and  I 
am  going  to  kiss  yours,"  said  Stewart,  suiting  the  action  to 
the  word,  and  then  the  two  visitors  kindly  greeted  old 
Martha,  now  the  nurse  "of  Miss  Callie's  baby,  jist  as  I  used 
to  nuss  Miss  Cally,"  as  she  promptly  reported  to  the  new- 
comers. 

"Latane,  the  thing  is  settled  beyond  a  doubt ;  your  election 
is  so  certain  that  Ransom  has  come  down  and  says  be  will 
never  make  another  race  for  any  political  office.  You  see 
your  quiet  ways,  and  the  fact  that  you  have  never  offered  to 
stand  for  an}^  political  office,  led  him  to  think  that  he  would 
easily  defeat  you.     But  he  has  told  me  to-day  that  his  card 


488  ETOWAH. 


withdrawing  from  the   race  will  be  printed  in  'the  news- 
paper' to-morrow  morning." 

"If  it  were  not  for  the  infamous  convict  system  which  dis- 
graces the  statutes  of  our  State  and  other  Southern  States," 
said  Latane,  "I  would  not  have  the  office.  Ransom  would 
make  a  good  Representative,  and  he  should  have  my  vote  if 
he  would  run,  even  as  my  opponent." 

"Latane,  is  it  true,  as  you  stated  in  your  editorial  this 
morning,  that  the  loss  by  the  war  and  the  emancipation  of 
the  slaves  in  this  State  was  more  than  three  times  as  great 
as  is  the  value  of  the  property  left  ?"  asked  Bruton  Stewart. 

"Yes;  it  is  unquestionably  true.  There  has  been,  rela- 
tively, about  seven  years  increase  in  population,  owing  to 
battles  and  war,  and  twenty-five  years  loss  of  wealth.  But 
the  Southern  States  have  now  fifty-five  electoral  votes; 
whereas,  if  the  negro  was  not  a  voter — if  he  had  not  been 
enfranchised  — if  he  be  eliminated  from  the  apportionment  in 
the  South,  that  electoral  vote  would  be  reduced  to  about 
thirty." 

"You  stated  that  you  would  discuss  a  remedy,  simple,  legal 
and  comprehensive,  that  if  adopted  would  tend  to  greatly 
reduce  the  losses  referred  to?     What  did  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  that  about  sixty-eight  millions  of  dollars  were 
taken  from  the  cotton  planters,  in  a  time  of  profound  peace, 
and  at  a  time  when  they  were  confronted  by  social  problems 
of  the  gravest  nature,  and  that  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States  has  declared  said  tax  to  be  unconstitutional." 

"And  you  propose  what  ?" 

"That  Congress  shall  restore  this  money  to  the  planters,  or 
to  the  cotton  States,  as  an  educational  fund.  This  money 
does  not  belong  to  the  North,  nor  to  the  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  foreign  immigrants  who  annually  settle  on  the  free 


ETOWAH.  489 

lands  of  the  government,  nor  to  the  United  States  treasury, 
with  its  surplus  of  over  a  hundred  millions  of  dollars;  restore 
it  to  the  States  from  which  it  was  taken,  with  six  per  cent, 
interest  per  annum,  and  it  will  pay  the  debts  of  those  States. 
This  State  has  no  government  lands,  nor  State  lands,  nor 
public  lands  to  donate  to  the  cause  of  public  education." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you  about  this,  but  I  greatly  fear  that 
Congress  will  not  'render  unto  Csesar  the  things  that  are 
Caesar's  "  said  General  Stewart,  preparing  to  depart. 

"I  doubt  it  also,"  said  Latane;  "but  we  should  demand 
it  nevertheless.  The  South  produces  more  iron  now  than 
the  whole  Union  did  in  1860;  our  negroes  in  this  State  own 
nearly  six  millions  of  dollars  worth  of  property ;  and  of  the 
school  population  71.Q  per  centum  is  white  and  49  per  centiom 
colored;  so  we  are  not  going  to  starve  at  any  rate."  Then, 
desiring  to  change  the  subject,  Latane  said :  "  Clara  and  I 
were  talking  about  Hallback  as  you  rang  the  door-bell, 
and — "  he  stopped  here  to  glance  at  his  wife,  but  it  was  very 
evident  that  she  had  heard  nothing  that  the  two  gentlemen 
had  said.  She  and  Mrs.  Stewart  were  deeply  engrossed  in 
examining  samples  of  woolens  for  a  new  dress  which  the  lat- 
ter was  to  order  through  her  dress-maker  in  New  York,  and 
she  had  induced  her  husband  to  drive  her  over  to  Throna- 
teeska  this  starlit  night  to  consult  about  this  all-important 
matter,  in  comparison  with  which  matters  of  State  policy  are 
of  infinitesimal  interest  to  the  feminine  mind.  Half  pro- 
voked, half  amused,  Latane  decided  to  interrupt  them,  so  he 
asked  :  "How  is  mother  to  night,  sister  ?" 

"Just  the  happiest  grandmother  you  ever  saw,  and  my 
little  Bruton  loves  her  more  than  he  does  me,  I  believe.  By- 
the-way,  he  is  much  prettier  than  your  baby  there."     Then 


490  ETOWAH. 

she  caught  up  the  cooing  little  one  and  caressed  it  as  if  to 
ask  pardon  for  this  speech. 

But  Martha's  eyes  5-ought  those  of  her  mistress,  and  with 
a  serious  face  she  shook  her  head  in  dissent;  and  after  the 
guests  had  left  the  house,  she  solemnly  informed  her  mis- 
tress that  she  had  carried  the  baby — her  baby — to  Chestatee 
that  very  day,  and  the  nurse  of  the  other  baby  had  admitted 
to  her  that  even  she  thought  that  her  baby  was  the  prettiest. 

The  look  and  shake  of  the  head  of  old  Martha  had  not 
escaped  General  Stewart's  eyes,  who  was  much  amused,  and 
said  to  his  wife  : 

"  There  is  one  'doubting  Thomas'  in  the  land  who  does 
not  hesitate  to  dissent  from  you,  my  dear,  about  the  perfec- 
tions of  our  baby,  and  I  quite  agree  with  Martha." 

"  You  always  were  an  adept  in  saying  pleasant  things. 
General,"  said  Clara. 

And  thus  the  evening  passed  pleasantly  away  until  Stew- 
art and  his  wife  went  forth  again  as  happy  as  if  the  redoubt- 
able General  had  not  once  thought  himself  "head-over-heels 
in  love"  with  Mrs.  Barnum,  nee  Julia  Bearing. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 


ARLINGTON. 


The  two  figures  which  ascended  the  hill  at  Arlington  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  all  who  saw  them.  The  young 
bride  was  tall  and  vigorous  and  the  elasticity  of  step  and 
symmetry  of  form  suggested  the  most  perfect  health.  The 
rich  color  of  her  cheeks  and  the  massive  luxuriance  of  her 
dark  hair  completed  the  charm  of  her  presence.  The  look 
of  confiding  trust  and  love  as  she  turned  her  lustrous  eyes 
to  meet  his  glance  showed  the  eager  interest  she  felt  in  all 
he  uttered,  and  suggested  that  this  happy  couple  was  a  new- 
ly-wedded pair  to  whom  life  presented  its  brightest  aspects. 
The  young  husband  would  pause  occasionally  to  look  at 
the  landscape — a  lovely  panorama — but  a  softer  light,  the 
light  of  love,  would  animate  his  countenance  as  he  looked 
with  fond  pride  upon  his  beautiful  bride.  The  elderly 
ladies  who  passed  them  nodded  approvingly  to  them  and  to 
each  other,  happy  to  see  again  this  sweetest  of  life's  realities, 
the  mutual  love  of  two  devoted  hearts.  And  the  old  gray- 
haired,  blue-coated  veteran  who  hobbled  along  upon  a 
wooden  leg  stopped  to  look  at  these  two  young  people  thus 
radiant  with  happiness.  Tall  and  symmetrical  as  she  is, 
her  head  barely  reaches  his  shoulder,  and  his  well-knit, 
muscular  frame  and  intellectual  face  seems  strong  and  earn- 
est enough  to  take  good  care  of  her.  "What  did  you  say, 
Mr.  Barnum  ?"  she  asked,  as  they  stood  upon  the  crest  of  the 
hill  two  hundred  feet  above  the  Potomac,  whose  broad 
bosom  shone  in  the  afternoon  sunlight  as  if  "thi'eaded  with 
silver  and  sanded  with  gold." 


492  ETOWAH. 

"  I  remarked  that  to  me  Arlington  always  excited  pecu- 
liar emotions.  The  glory  of  America  is  Virginia's  glory,  the 
mother  of  States  and  statesmen.  The  name  of  yon  magnifi- 
cent city,  the  capital  of  a  great  nation,  is  Virginian,  and 
Arlington  was  the  home  of  the  knightliest  of  all  American 
military  leaders,  Gen.  R.  E.  Lee.  Washington,  Lee,  Lincoln 
and  Grant :  these  are  the  names  aronnd  which  those  of  all 
American  heroes  will  cluster  like  lesser  stars." 

"And  three  of  these  were  Southern-born,"  said  Julia. 

"  Yes  ;  Washington  and  Lee  were  'to  the  manner  born  f 
Lincoln  was  but  nature's  nobleman  ;  but  their  hearts  were 
cast  in  the  same  grand  mould.  Each  of  them  felt  the  grand 
impulse  which  Lincoln  uttered,  'Charity  for  all  and  malice 
toward  none.'  Each  one  was  too  great  to  be  sectional ; 
though  Southern-born  they  were  Americans,  and  looked 
with  pride  upon  the  new  government  which  offered  this  con- 
tinent as  a  home  for  the  oppressed  of  all  nations."  After 
clasping  the  little  hand  which  found  its  way  into  his,  seem- 
ing a  tacit  and  thankful  acknowledgment  of  this  generous 
tribute  to  Arlington  and  Lee,  he  continued:  "  General  Lee 
possessed  all  the  grand  virtues  of  which  heroes  are  made, 
and  none  of  the  small  enmities  and  vices  which  rob  heroes 
of  their  laurels  after  the}^  are  gone.  Barring  his  one 
mistake,  his  lamentable  \^onviction  that  he  must  fight 
against  the  Federal  flag,  I  think  he  was  the  model  American." 

"  Don't  spoil  your  noble  eulogy,  Mr.  Barnum,  by  blaming 
him  for  doing  what  he  thought  was  right.  All  of  our  best  and 
truest  people  thought  with  him.  I  know  I  always  will  be  a 
'rebel,'  as  you  call  us,  but  I  think  my  own  dear  husband, 
who  was  in  the  abominable  Yankee  army,  is  just  as  good  and 
noble  as  General  Lee  was." 

"The  design  of  this  plantation  residence,"  said  Barnum. 


ETOWAH.  498 

•"was  taken  from  drawings  of  a  temple  at  Psestum,  near 
Naples.  On  the  south  side  over  there  are  the  gardens  and 
conservatory,  and  farther  back  were  the  slave  '  quarters.'  " 

"In  what  way  does  Arlington  most  impress  you  ?"  asked 
.1  ulia. 

"In  its  social  aspects.  Arlington  seems  to  me  to  be  the 
connecting  link  between  the  present  and  the  aristocratic 
regime  of  the  planters  in  the  days  of  Governor  Spottsword,  of 
the  time  of  which  Thackeray  wrote  and  described  so  graphic- 
ally in  'The  Virginians,'  and  the  days  of  Washington.  There 
is  not  enough  of  the  practical,  money-making  machinery  of 
the  later  years  just  preceding  the  war  about  it  to  recall 
cotemporary  planters  as  we  know  them  in  the  far  South. 
The  historical  paintings  on  the  walls,  presented  by  men 
like  the  Earl  of  Buchan ;  the  Mount  Vernon  plate,  bearing 
the  arms  and  crest  of  Washington  ;  pictures  of  the  Parke  and 
Lee  families,  make  this  old  mansion  distinctively  provin- 
cial— a  relic  of  th?  '  Old  Dominion.'  " 

"Is  not  that  Analostan  Island?"  said  Julia. 

"Yes,  but  what  do  you  know  about  it?" 

"I  know  that  I  had  a  happy  time  there  when  a  child," 
answered  his  wife.  "  Hugh  and  I  used  to  play  together  in  the 
then  beautiful  grounds  at  Analostan.  The  Masons  kept 
open  house  just  as  General  Lee  did  here,  and  it  was  delight- 
ful to  visit  Arlington  or  Analostan.  Visits  often  extended 
into  weeks,  and  the  elite  of  Washington  society  gladly  ac- 
cepted the  hospitalities  of  either  house.  You  know  the  Con- 
federate Commissioner  to  England,  was  born  at  Analostan, 
and  he  and  my  father,  when  they  were  in  Congress  together, 
were  warm  friends." 

"Well,  Julia,  you  are  a  delightful  chapter  of  surprises. 
Here  I  have  been  telling  you  what  I  thought  would  be  news 


494  ETOWAH. 

to  you,  and  I  find  that  imparting  information  to  you  is  like 
carrying  coals  to  Newcastle." 

They  stood  underneath  the  old  flag  in  front  of  this  old 
mansion.  It  was  a  crisp,  clear  December  day,  such  a  day  as 
the  ancients  fancied  that  the  halcyon  bird  brooded  on  her 
nest  and  all  nature  rested  in  sympathy  with  the  silence  of 
the  bird.  The  wind  gently  caressed  the  waves,  the  mottled 
sky  was  flecked  with  silver  clouds,  and  the  delightful  sense 
of  perfect  peace  filled  their  hearts  with  love.  There  was  not 
a  frowning  cloud  in  the  heavens,  the  broad,  placid  bo- 
som of  the  Potomac  was  before  them,  and  the  scene  was 
beautiful  as  the  choicest  landscapes  of  Salvator  Rosa.  Slowly 
a  sailing  vessel  moved  on  the  blue  waters  toward  Georgetown. 
and  a  steamer  from  Alexandria  swiftly  plowed  the  stream 
on  its  way  to  Washington.  Below  them  the  grassy  lawn 
descended  abruptly,  then  by  gentle  undulations  until  the 
carriage-way  was  reached.  Clumps  of  cedars  and  firs  dotted 
the  slopes,  while  on  either  side  the  primitive  forest  of  noble 
oaks  and  chestnuts,  unmolested  by  the  vandalism  of  the  utili- 
tarian, stood  century-guard  over  a  thousand  acres.  The  de- 
pressions of  the  surface,  the  hills  and  dales,  gave  a  most 
pleasing  variety  to  the  scene.  The  brilliant  rays  of  the  early 
winter  sun  shone  upon  the  great  dome  of  the  most  magnifi- 
cent of  national  capitols,  and  glinted  the  spires  of  the  sixty- 
six  churches  of  Washington. 

"  This  view  from  Arlington  Heights  looking  down  upon 
Washington,  I  have  heard,,  more  nearly  resembles  that  of 
Rome  from  the  Monte  Pincio  than  any  other  scene,"  said 
Barnum.  "But  to  me  the  capital  of  the  nation,  as  seen  from 
the  home  of  the  Lees,  seems  emblematic  of  the  great  Repub- 
lic itself.  Scattered  palaces  rise  from  the  midst  of  humble 
dwellings:  architecture  seems  as  crude  and  multiform  as  the' 


ETOWAH.  495' 

various  dialects  and  nationalities  that  form  the  composite 
people  of  the  United  States ;  the  asphaltum  pavements  of  the 
broad  avenues  and  the  public  buildings  recall  the  splendor 
of  Paris ;  while  the  thirty  thousand  dusky  citizens,  recently 
enfranchised,  and  the  vast  waste  of  the  alentours,  recall  St. 
Petersburg;  splendid  barbarism  side-by-side  with  the  most 
cultured  civilization.  The  antiquities  of  the  country  col- 
lected at  the  capitol  are  but  a  century  old,  but  that  century 
has  seen  the  flag  of  the  Union  extend  from  ocean  to  ocean, 
and  from  the  Great  Lakes  to  the  Gulf,  while  fiftv  millions 
of  people  acknowledge  allegiance  to  the  Union." 

"I  like  your  ardor,"  said  Julia;  and  I  confess  that  the  day 
of  little  States  seems  to  be  over,  but  do  you  really  think  that 
such  a  composite  people  as  compose  the  population  of  the 
United  States  can  ever  become  a  homogeneous  people — a  dis- 
tinct nationality — like  that  of  the  Greeks,  for  example?" 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  that  question  would  open  infinite  discus- 
sion: Our  great  Massachusetts  statesman  lectures  to-night, 
and  his  subject  is,  '  Are  we  a  Nation  ? '  Meanwhile,  the  ex- 
haustive writer,  Fallmerayer,  insists  that  the  pure  Hellenic 
blood  cannot  be  found  in  Greece,  except  on  the  Grecian  Isles, 
having  been  absorbed  by  the  barbaric  hordes  that  have  over- 
run that  classic  land.  The  modern  Greeks  wear  the  Alba- 
nian costume,  and  much  of  their  poetry  is  of  Sclavic  origin. 
But  barbarism  has  swept  away  in  the  new  Greeks  the  senti- 
ment of  art  and  plastic  beauty  which  so  distinguished  the 
ancient  Hellenes." 

''  But  the  Greeks  have  neither  become  Albanians  by  the 
influence  of  Arnautic  colonization ;  nor  Osmanlis  bv  the 
influence  of  the  conquering  Turks ;  nor  Latins  by  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Venetians;  nor  Romans  by  those  of  the  French 
and  the  Catalans.    Neither  have  thev  become  Sclaves.    Infi- 


496  ETOWAH. 

nitely  superior  to  the  barbarous  hordes  which  overcame 
them,  they  have  always  preserved  an  intellectual  predomi- 
nance. Their  language  is  to-day  the  classic  tongue ;  in  the 
middle  age  it  conquered  the  Sclavic  language,  as,  later,  it 
triumphed  over  that  of  the  Turks  and  Albanians,"  answered 
his  wife,  who  thus  showed  to  Barnum  the  priceless  value 
that  the  society  of  her  intellectual  father  had  been  to  her. 

Pressing  her  hand  as  a  tacit  tribute  to  her  genius  and  talent, 
he  said  :  "  Yes,  I  must  concede  that  that  is  the  most  remak- 
able  vitality  which  history  records.  The  unity  of  the  lan- 
guage will  preserve  the  unity  of  the  nation,  and  the  same 
thing  will  prove  true  in  this  country. 

"  One  can  find  in  yonder  city  the  pure  Celtic  type,  the  Iberi- 
an type,  the  Teuton  or  Scandinavian  type,  and  even  the  Hel- 
lenic type,  exempt  from  all  admixture.  But  the  domination 
of  the  English  type  is  shown  by  the  national  language, 
which  will  gradually  absorb  all  other  languages  in  our  great 
Republic,  just  as  a  national  spirit  is  destined  to  bring  into 
one  harmonious  nationality  the  individual  diversities  that 
characterize  this  continent  at  present." 

Thus  spoke  the  young  Federal  Colonel,  giving  free  rein  to 
his  patriotic  fervor.  It  was  the  first  time  since  their  mar- 
riage that  he  had  spoken  to  her  of  his  attachment  to  the 
Union  and  his  pride  in  the  success  of  that  Union  for  which 
he  had  fought. 

She  was  silent  and  pensive. 

"Of  what  are  you  thinking,  Julia?" 

"  I  was  thinking  of  Lamar  Fontaine's  touching  war  poem  : 
"  All  quiet  on  the  Potomac  to  night,"  she  replied.  "  Your 
triumphant  feelings  I  am  glad  you  feel,  but  they  bring  back 
the  memories  of  our  "sorrows's  crown  of  sorrow." 

"  Do  you  remember  the  words,"  he  asked. 


ETOWAH.  497 

"  Yes,  I  have  sung  them  frequently." 

"  Repeat  them,  please ;  I  have  no  desire  to  diminish  your 
pride  in  the  achievements  of  Southern  soldiers.  I  owe  to 
the  South  a  possession  which  I  would  not  exchange  for  the 
diadem  of  the  proudest  monarch  :  the  love  of  my  precious, 
peerless  wife."  As  he  said  this  he  kissed  her  gently,  and  led 
her  to  a  chair  on  the  great  porch  of  the  mansion  which  over- 
looked the  scene. 

"  Now,  Julia,  sing  me  that  Confederate  song."  No  one  was 
near  them  and  she  sang  in  a  low  tone,  but  with  exquisite 
tendernes,  the  following  lines  : 


1. 


"  All  quiet  along  the  Potomac,  tliey  say, 

Except,  now  and  then,  a  stray  picket 
Is  shot  on  his  beat,  as  he  walks  to  and  fro, 

By  a  rifleman  hid  in  a  thicket. 
'Tis  nothing,  a  private  or  two  now  and  then, 

Will  not  count  in  the  news  of  the  battle ; 
Not  an  officer  lost,  only  one  of  the  men 

Moaning  out  all  alone  the  death  rattle. 

2. 

All  quiet  along  the  Potomac  to-night 

Where  the  soldiers  lie  peacefully  dreaming. 
Their  tents  in  the  rays  of  the  clear  autumn  moon, 

Or  the  light  of  their  watch-fires  are  gleaming. 
A  tremulous  sigh  as  the  gentle  night  wind 

•Through  the  forest  leaves  softly  is  creeping; 
While  stars  up  above,  with  their  glittering  eyes, 
Keep  guard,  for  the  army  is  sleeping, 
32 


498  ETOWAH. 


3. 


There's  only  the  sound  of  the  lone  sentry's  tread 

As  he  tramps  from  the  rock  to  the  fountain, 
And  thinks  of  the  two  in  their  low  trundle-bed 

Far  away  in  the  cot  on  the  mountain. 
His  musket  falls  slack,  and  his  face  dark  and  grim 

Grows  gentle  with  memories  tender, 
As  he  mutters  a  prayer  for  the  children  asleep, 

For  their  mother — may  heaven  defend  her ! 

4. 

» 

The  moon  seems  to  shine  just  as  brightly  as  then, 

That  night  when  the  love  yet  unspoken 
Leaped  up  to  his  lips — w^hen  low  murmuring  vows 

Were  pledged  to  be  ever  unbroken. 
Then  drawing  his  sleeve  roughly  over  his  eyes. 

He  dashes  away  tears  that  are  welling 
And  gathers  his  gun  closer  to  its  place, 

As  if  to  keep  down  the  heart-swelling. 

5. 

He  passes  the  fountain,  the  blasted  pine  tree, 

The  footstep  is  lagging  and  weary ; 
Yet  onw^ard  he  goes  thro'  the  broad  belt  of  light 

Toward  the  shades  of  the  forest  so  dreary. 
Hark  !  was  it  the  night  wind  that  rustled  the  leaves? 

Was  it  moonlight  so  w^ondrously  flashing? 
It  looked  like  a  rifle — ha !  Mary,  good  bye  ! 

And  the  life-blood  is  ebbing  and  plashing. 

6. 

All  quiet  along  the  Potomac  to-night, 

No  sound  save  the  rush  of  the  river ; 
While  soft  falls  the  dew  on  the  face  of  the  dead, 

The  picket's  off  duty  forever ! 


ETOWAH.  499 

Her  husband  had  been  sitting  on  the  steps  at  her  feet  as- 
she  sang  this  song,  and  she  seemed  to  impart  to  it  all  the 
pathos  of  her  own  sympathetic  nature. 

"That  was  the  prettiest  poem  that  was  written  on  either 
side  during  the  war,"  he  said,  "and  I  am  glad  I  heard  it 
first  from  your  lips." 

After  a  pause,  in  which  he  caressed  her  .  hand,  while  his 
eyes  assumed  the  far-away  look  which  belongs  only  to 
thoughtful,  earnest  natures,  she  asked :  "  What  are  you 
thinking  about  ?" 

"  I  never  read  or  hear  of  anything  of  the  nature  of  the 
poem  you  have  just  repeated  without  thinking  of  a  friend  of 
mine,"  said  her  husband. 

"Who  was  he?"  asked  Julia. 

"  He  was  considered  the  most  promising  young  officer  in 
the  army  of  the  Shenandoah,  and  he  was  killed  by  '  bush- 
whackers.' His  death  was  probably  due  to  the  reprisals 
caused  by  the  Federal  general's  orders,  requiring  officers  and 
soldiers  to  confiscate  property  or  burn  it  in  consequence  of 
robberies  committed  on  Union  citizens  by  bands  of  guerillas. 
His  successor  followed  his  example  on  a  larger  scale,  and 
among  the  victims  was  John  Rogers.  His  tomb  is  in  the 
cemetery  at  Georgetown,  and  it  is  unlike  any  I  ever  saw. 
The  figure  of  the  young  officer,  cast  in  bronze,  is  represented 
as  lying  upon  his  back  just  as  he  fell  when  making  the 
reconnoisance.  His  pistol  is  on  the  ground  near  him,  just 
as  it  was  dropped,  and  around  his  person,  sword,  belt,  and 
strap  holding  field  glass,  are  as  he  wore  them  on  that  fatal 
occasion.  The  sword  is  still  in  its  scabbard,  for  he  did  not 
have  time  to  draw  it.  His  uniform  is  closely  buttoned  up 
to  his  chin,  an  army  cloak  covering  the  shoulders.     The  fea- 


500  ETOWAH. 

tures  are  perfect  in  resemblance  to  his,  the  same  patrician 
mouth  and  the  same  intellectual  face.  The  innocence  of 
youth  and  the  spirit  of  a  laudable  ambition  are  stamped  up- 
on the  face  which  would  seem  in  slumber,  but  for  the  ner- 
vously clenched  hand.  His  age  was  22.  Upon  his  tomb  is 
this  inscription,  more  touchingly  eloquent  to  my  mind  than 
any  I  ever  read : 

'  Lieutenant  John  Rogers,  U.  S.  Engineers,  Chief  Engi- 
neer Army  of  the  Shenandoah.  Born  9th  February,  1842. 
Died  3d  October,  1864.'  His  father  is  one  of  the  leading  gen- 
erals of  the  United  States  Army  with  headquarters  at  Wash- 
ington." 

"  And  his  uncle,"  responded  his  wife,  "  is  a  citizen  of  our 
State,  and  the  noblest-hearted  of  the  distinguished  family ; 
a  cultured  scholar,  a  gentleman,  and  possessing  a  heart  as 
tender  as  a  woman's — a  man  whose  conscience  is  as  clear  as 
a  cloudless  sky,  without  reproach,  and  true  to  his  adopted 
State.  His  grandfather  was  the  first  president  of  the  State 
University.  Oh !  what  a  pity,  what  a  mistake  that  terrible 
war  was  which  divided  families  thus !"  and  then  she  con- 
tinued after  a  short  pause  :  "I  was  at  the  home  of  Lieut. 
Rogers'  grandparents  in  Philadelphia,  when  I  was  a  little 
child,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the  welcome  which  the  hand- 
some young  cadet  received  when  he  made  a  short  visit  from 
the  Military  Academy  at  West  Point.  They  were  all  proud 
of  him  and,  though  I  never  saw  him  again,  and  was  too 
small  to  attract  his  attention,  I  shall  never  forget  the  im- 
pression which  the  handsome  youth  made  on  me." 

"  What  a  singular  coincidence,"  he  answered.  "  I  had  no 
idea  that  you  knew  John  Rogers.  It  is  time  we  were 
returning ;  you  know  we  are  to  go  to  Vinnie  Raum's  re- 
ception to-night.      She  is  a  distant  relative  of  mine.     We 


ETOWAH.  "501 

will  meet  Valentine,  the  Virginia  sculptor,  there,  and  many- 
more  distinguished  people,  and  I  wish  you  to  look  your 
best,"   said  Barnum. 

"  What  other  distinguished  people  ?  I  don't  mean  South- 
erners, but  foreigners ;  will  any  of  them  be  at  the  reception  ?" 

"  No,  our  little  artist  friend's  home  is  too  small  for  recep- 
tions on  a  grand  scale,  but  there  will  be  one  guest  there  whom 
it  is  a  treat  for  any  cultured  person  to  meet.  Most  of  his 
life  has  been  passed  abroad  for  the  past  twenty  years,  and  he 
is  a  thorough  cosmopolite." 

"Who  is  he  ?  Why  do  you  pause  just  at  the  interesting  mo- 
ment ?" 

Barnum  laughed  and  answered :  "It  is  the  venerable 
American  Sculptor,  Story,  more  famous  in  Italy,  as  the 
leading  American  than  is  either  Lee  or  Grant." 

The  evening  passed  delightfully  to  Julia,  and,  towards  its 
close,  the  guests  were  favored  with  a  novel  and  unexpected 
treat. 

Several  distinguished  gentlemen,  members  of  Congress  and 
lawyers  of  prominence  were  also  present.  Conversation  had 
become  general  until  some  one  requested  Miss  Raum  to  play, 
and,  as  many  were  preparing  to  leave,  the  hostess,  leaving 
Mrs.  Barnum's  side,  improvised  a  song  suited  to  the  occa- 
sion. No  one  present,  except  Colonel  Barnum,  knew  that 
she  possessed  the  faculty  of  improvisation ;  and  it  was  with 
much  interest  that  the  guest  listened  to  the  following  as  she 
seated  herself  at  the  harp  : 

IMPROVISATION. 

Harp  of  the  North  with  seraphs  come 
To  grace  and  charm  the  artist's  home  ; 
Let  sculpture  crown  my  Muse's  face 
With  beauty's  charm,  with  nameless  grace ! 


502  ETOWAH. 


Let  seraphs  come  ;  let  seraphs  go  ; 
Let  shadowy  forms  of  purest  suow 
Bring  back  the  heroes  of  the  past, 
And  mate  them  with  the  loves  that  last. 
Oh  Muse  of  Art!  speed  time's  quick  flight; 
Thrice  happy  love,  thrice  happy  night ! 

Come,  come  to  me,  oh.  Muse  of  mine, 

For  purest  charms  of  art  are  thine ; 

Thou  makest  life  a  dream,  replete 

With  all  the  joj'^s  of  Arcadie, 

Where  sounds  seolian  strains,  as  sweet 

As  ever  sang  the  waves  at  sea. 

Let  Daphne  rise  with  healthful  glow 

And  graceful  hmbs,  pure  white  as  snow, 

Like  some  fair  naiad  of  the  sea : 

Let  her  aid  now  my  minstrelsy. 

Ye,  gods  and  goddesses,  inspire 

The  hand  which  touches  now  the  lyre. 

For  one  here  stands,  whose  hair  is  white ; 
Whose  heart  is  pure,  though  time's  swift  flight 
Hath  left  in  age  a  perfect  man ; 
Hath  left  him  young  whose  life's  a  span ; 
With  eyes  undimmed  that  fain  would  see 
What  charm  thou  hast,    sweet  minstrelsy! 
Sweet  Flora,  cast  thy  garlands  o'er 
The  honored  brave  we'll  see  no  more ; 
And,  seraphs,  come  to  charm  his  sight ; 
Thrice  happ}'  love,  thrice  happy  night ! 

With  heart  as  light  as  airy  hope. 

And  lips  that  ope  as  lilies  ope. 

Smile  gently,  fair  Penelope  ; 

For  fairer  than  a  rose  is  she  ! 

And  I  do  sing  of  a  lover,  tall 

And  stalwart,  whose  eyes  look  love — 


ETOWAH.  503 


^ 


Love  such  as  angels  guard  above  ; 
And  well  it  niay,  with  soft  love-light 
Gaze  fondly  on  her  face  to-night ! 
Gently  my  harp  !  like  whispers  be 
The  caresses  of  minstrelsy ! 

Thrice  happy  love,  thrice  happy  night! 
May  life  to  them,  be  love's  delight. 
For  well,  I  ween,  when  bosom  swells 
And  eyes,  as  bright  as  the  gazelles, 
Are  turned  to  his,  no  mortal  heart 
Can  fail  to  do  a  lover's  part! 
May  angels  guard  her  lovely  life 
And  smile  on  this  husband  and  wife! 
May  life  to  them  be  love's  delight ; 
Thrice  happy  love,  thrice  happy  night! 


,  CHAPTER  XLIII. 

OUR    BROTHER    IN    BLACK. 

Representative  Latane  had  thoroughly  studied  the  convict 
laws  of  the  Southern  States  so  that  when  he  arose  in  his 
place  to  speak  upon  this  question,  he  quickly  secured  the 
attention  of  the  House.  "Mr.  Speaker,"  said  he,  "All  the 
States  in  this  Union  are  interested  in  this  bill,  and  I  protest 
in  the  name  of  the  people,  against  the  effort  to  deny  the 
privilege  of  being  heard,  and  to  smother  this  bill  that  the 
robbery  and  vile  oppression  may  go  on.  Human  greed 
seems  insatiable,  and  the  convict  lessees  aptly  illustrate  that 
Hhe  love  of  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil.'  I  am  reliably  in- 
formed that  a  negro  who  was  convicted  of  the  theft  of  two 
dollars,  has  been  sentenced  to  work  in  the  chain-gangs  in 
coal  mines  owned  by  a  convict  lessee  for  twenty  years !  This 
poor  negro  is  an  'able-bodied,  long  term  convict ;'  and,  under 
this  iniquitous  and  barbarous  law,  three  hundred  'able-bodied, 
long-term  convicts'  are  assigned  to  the  chain-gangs,  control- 
led by  this  lessee.  It  is  an  accepted  axiom  that  every  effect 
has  its  cause.  In  whose  interests  have  the  modifications  in 
this  law  been  made  ?  By  what  methods  was  this  legislation 
secured  ? 

Ah !  Mr.  Speaker,  to  every  suggestion  that  the  State 
should  abolish  the  convict  leasing  system,  the  objection  is 
made  that  the  prison  population  is  so  large  that  the  State 
cannot  take  control  ofthe  penitentiary  without  great  expense 
which  the  tax-payers  will  oppose. 

Before   the  late  war  there  had   never   been  a  time  when 


ETOWAH.  505 

the  number  of  convicts  in    the   State  penitentiary  exceeded 
three  hundred.     Now  it  is  sixteen  hundred ! 

To  the  lessees  this  great  question  is  one  solely  of  dollars. 
By  their  own  admission,  there  are  eight  times  as  many 
convicts  now  as  there  were  before  the  abolition  of  slavery. 
The  question  arises,  why  is  this  prison  population  so  enor- 
mously out  of  proportion  to  the  general  population  of  the 
State  ? 

In  whose  interest  has  the  grade  of  grand  larceny  been  re- 
duced to  ten  dollars?  Before  the  emancipation  of  the  negroes, 
it  was  twenty-five  dollars.  In  every  northern  State,  it  is  at 
least  twenty-five  dollars,  and  in  many  it  is  placed  at  much 
higher  figures. 

Why  is  it  a  greater  crime  now  to  steal  than  it  was  in  the 
year  of  1860  ?  ^ojust  reason  can  be  given  why  felony  should 
be  placed  at  such  a  low  grade. 

Out  of  sixteen  hundred  convicts,  leased  for  three  and  three- 
fourths  cents  per  day,  three  hundred  of  whom  are  leased  at  this 
rate  for  twenty  years,  nearly  three-eighths  of  the  whole  num- 
ber were  convicts  of  larceny.  If  larceny  as  a  penitentiary 
offence,  was  restored  to  its  former  grade,  this  number  would 
probably  be  reduced  one-half.  But,  so  long  as  this  barbarous 
system  of  leasing  convicts  to  individuals,  that  they  may 
make  fortunes  like  magic  to  the  detriment  of  free  labor, 
prevails,  so  long  will  the  grade  be  left  where  they  can  fill 
their  chain-gangs  with  convicts,  ninety  per  cent,  of  whom 
are  negroes. 

This  is  proved  by  the  similar  condition  of  things  in  all  the 
Southern  States  where  this  system  prevails.  Take,  for  exam- 
ple, that  of  another  State,  where  the  severity  of  the  term  of 
imprisonment  is  like  that  in  this  State.  It  is  authoritatively 
stated  that  the  average  term  of  confinement  there,  excluding 


506  ETOWAH. 

the  life  sentences,  is  four  years  and  three  hundred  and  twen- 
ty-eight days.  There  is  not  a  single  first-class  prison,  in  the 
North,  in  the  densest  populations,  with  such  an  average  im- 
prisonment. We  are  sending  people  to  the  penitentiary  for 
petty  effences,  and  making  the  sentences  unnecessarily  long 
and  severe. 

The  last  published  prison  register  shows  that  there  were 
thirty  three  boys  in  prison,  none  of  whom  was  committed 
when  he  was  over  the  age  of  eighteen  years,  whose  average 
term  of  imprisonment  is  five  years  and  328  days.  It  is  a 
startling  and  extraordinary  fact  that  this  class  of  juvenile 
offenders,  sent  to  prison  for  probably  their  first  offence,  cer- 
tainly not  hardened  criminals  and  not  beyond  all  moral  in- 
fluences, are  actually  being  punished  more  severely  and  with 
longer  terms  of  imprisonment  than  the  average  adult  felon. 
Therd  are  twelve  boys  sentenced  when  under  fifteen  years  of 
age,  with  an  average  term  of  five  years  and  three  months. 
Two  of  sixteen  years,  are  confined  for  life.  By  the  latest 
published  report  there  were  eight  hundred  and  twelve  con- 
victs in  that  penitentiary.  Prior  to  the  war,  there  were  only 
one  hundred  and  sixty-nine  in  that  penitentiary.  And  this 
is  the  record  wherever  the  leasing  of  convicts  to  individuals 
is  the  law.     And  yet  a  lessee  of  convicts  cooly  says  to  us : 

"A  change  of  the  system  is  not  seriously  proposed,  indeed 
it  is  not  needed,  as  we  cannot  adopt  a  better  one  for  either 
the  State  or  the  convicts.  Then  what  produces  all  this 
clamor?  What  is  needed?  Devise  a  better  system  if  you 
can." 

There,  sir,  men  are  beaten  atrociously  by  irresponsible 
'whipping  bosses'  who  themselves  escape  all  punishment. 
Their  flesh  is  cut  into  w^elts,  their  feet  are  eaten  and  ruined 
by  frost;  themselves  reduced  to  thesupinenessofindiflerence 


ETOWAH. 


50\ 


by  the  cruelty  of  task-masters  in  their  insatiable  greed  for 
money!  What  is  a  leased  convict?  Is  he  a  brute?  No, 
he  is  a  human  being  blessed  with  all  the  feelings  and  im- 
pulses which  ennoble  human  nature,  until  he  yields  to 
crime.  As  an  infant  he  received  the  tender  cares-es  and  the 
fathomless  love  of  his  mother,  and  as  a  man  he  is  followed 
in  his  captivity  by  the  anxious  prayers  of  that  mother. 

What  is  a  penitentiary  ?  Is  it  a  dungeon  of  perpetual  tor- 
ture that  all  spirit  and  all  hope  may  be  crushed  out  of  the 
convicted  felon  ?  No,  its  design  is  more  God-like  ;  it  is  de- 
signed to  punish  severely  as  a  prelude  to  that  reformation 
which  opens  the  way  to  mercy  for  the  criminal  and  salva- 
tion for  the  redeemed  soul. 

If  it  be  right  for  a  great  Commonwealth  to  thus  sell  its 
criminals,  to  the  detriment  of  the  honest  laborers  of  the 
State,  to  the  highest  bidder,  why  is  it  that  no  civilized  na- 
tions have  adopted  this  system  ?  It  was  designed  to  make 
the  lessees  fabulously  rich,  and  human  greed,  I  repeal,  seems 
insatiable. 

What  matters  it  to  this  absentee  proprietor— who  sees  his 
chained  slaves  perhaps  five  times  a  year— provided  his  profits 
are  paid  regularly  to  him  ? 

Sir,  humanity,  civilization  itself,  demands  the  abolition  of 
this  inhumane  system. 

It  is  the  malediction  of  an  Iliad  of  woes ;  it  is  the  over- 
flowing of  a  just  indignation;  it  is  almost  as  a  final  appeal 
to  the  Infinite." 

This  speech  made  a  deep  impression  upon  his  hearers,  and 
an  interview  with  the  Governor  followed,  during  which  Hall- 
back's  pardon  was  conditionally  promised. 

As  one  of  the  investigating  committee  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  Latane,  a  few  days  later,  visited  the  mines 


508  ETOWAH. 

where  Hallback  was  confined.  For  eighteen  years  our  poor 
friend,  in  whose  black  breast  breathed  a  rarel}^  brave  and 
gallant  spirit,  has  worn  the  shackles  of  the  convict. 

Latane  was  shocked  at  his  changed  appearance.  The 
welts  and  scars  on  Hallback's  poor  overworked  body  were 
made  by  the  cruel  lash  of  the  "whipping  boss." 

How  changed  is  he,  the  once  bright  and  earnest  young 
man,  filled  with  the  laudable  ambition  to  raise  his  depen- 
dent race  to  a  higher  plane  of  civilization. 

Can  yonder  round-shouldered  stooping  convict  be  Hall- 
back?  Poor  fellow!  Drawn  irresistibly  to  his  vicinity, 
without  intending  it,  Latane  came  in  the  line  of  his  vision. 
How  instantaneous,  though  momentary,  the  change !  Like 
a  lightning  flash,  the  gloom}^  sullen  look  of  despair  gave 
way  to  the  old  light  as  his  eyes  flashed  the  intelligence  that 
he  had  but  two  more  years  to  serve;  and  then — Oh!  there 
is  now  no  kind,  wise,  humane  old  Barney  to  place  his  hand 
upon  his  shoulder  and  bid  him  "wait !  "  "  Wait !  For  eigh- 
teen years,  Marse  Henry."  And  then  the  great  tears  rolled 
down  his  deeply-lined  face,  and  agony  was  depicted  there 
such  as  one  never  wishes  to  see  again !  Then,  dashing 
them  aside,  and  wringing  Latane's  hand  afiectionately,  the 
dogged,  sullen,  despairing  look  resumed  control  of  his  feat- 
ures, and  the  pick  went  up  and  down,  up  and  down,  with 
regular,  horrible  monotony,  as  up  and  down  it  had  gone  on 
thus  for  eighteen  years. 

Powerless  to  aid  him,  and  fearful  that  sympathy  for  him, 
if  expressed,  might  subject  him  to  further  cruelties,  if  the 
application  for  his  pardon  should  again  be  denied,  Latane 
left  him,  but  continued  his  investigations. 

The  keeper  of  the  Penitentiary  had  arrived  while  Latane 
was    inspecting  the  sleeping    quarters  of  the  convicts,  and 


ETOWAH.  O09 

Latane  divined  what  the  invitation  to  call  at  his  office   "on 
important  business"  meant. 

The  keeper  of  the  penitentiary  handed  him  a  letter  as  he 
entered  his  office,  and  that  letter  contained  a  pardon  for 
Hallback.  He  read  it  quickly,  and  immediately  asked  the 
keeper  to  accompany  him  to  where  Hallback  was  at  work. 
''He  is  an  old  servant  of  mine,  and  my  play-mate  when 
a  child,"  said  Latane. 

They  passed  along  the  gloomy,  sooty  caverns,  passed 
the  dark  and  sullen  laborers,  who,  with  picks  in  hand, 
loosed  the  coal  from  the  seams  where  it  had  rested  for  ages, 
and  shoveled  it  along  the  tunnel.  There  was  no  sunlight  in 
that  dark  cavern,  and  the  lines  in  Hallback's  face  seemed  to 
deepen  as  the  lamp  cast  its  fitful  glare  around  his  bent  fig- 
ure. He  did  not  notice  their  approach,  and  his  pick  seemed 
to  move  up  and  down  mechanically.  Now  they  stopped  be- 
fore him.  He  raised  his  head  with  a  despairing  look  ;  did 
not  seem  to  recognize  Latane,  but  glared  around  to  see  the 
"whipping  bo.=s."  There  was  no  look  of  fear  in  his  eyes;  it 
was  rather  a  look  of  stolid  indifference  to  his  fate — of  an 
utter  hopelessness  as  to  any  relief. 

"  Hallback,"  said  the  keeper,  "your  former  master.  Captain 
Latane,  is  here." 

He  bowed  his  head  in  acknowledgment  and  turned  away 
with  a  despairing  look,  then  raised  his  pick  again  and  re- 
sumed his  monotonous  work. 

Latane   could  wait  no  longer,  but  placing  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  he  caught  his  descending  arm,  arrested  it,  and  the. 
pick  fell  to  the  ground. 

:  A  low  moan  of  agony  escaped  the  convict's  lips,  as  if  to 
say,  "  Why  prolong  this  misery,  and  bring  back  to  me 
thoughts  of  the  happy  past  by  your  presence  ?  " 


510  /         ETOWAH. 

Latane's  eyes  filled  with  tears  loo,  and  his  voice  was 
choked  as  he  said,  "  I  have  come  to  set  you  free,  Hall :  the 
Governor  has  pardoned  you,  and  you  are  to  go  back  home 
with  me! '' 

He  seemed  dazed,  dumbfounded  at  first;  then,  as  the 
truth  dawned  upon  him,  the  poor  fellow  cried  like  a  child  ; 
and  as  a  child  would  he  let  him  lead  him  bv  the  hand  from 
darkness  to  daylight. 

The  earth  was  no  longer  without  form  and  void,  nor  dark- 
ness enveloped  the  world,  but  the  Spirit  of  God  moved  the 
air  and  their  was  light !  Light  that  was  divided  from  the 
darkness.  This,  to  him,  was  c^ay;  yesterday  was  one  long 
night  of  eighteen  years!  Not  for  him,  then,  were  the  lights 
in  the  firmament  of  the  heaven,  which  divided  the  day  from 
the  night,  that  were  for  signs  and  for  seasons,  and  for  days 
and  for  years -these  stars  in  the  firmament  to  give  light 
upon  the  earth.  To  that  crushed  spirit,  innocent  of  any 
wrong  to  any  human  being,  it  had  been  a  torture-chamber 
of  unutterable  darkness. 

They  stood  upon  the  mountain  peak.  Daylight !  Oh,  what 
a  glorious  vision  it  is  to  that  weary  soul !  How  beautiful, 
with  its  prismatic  hues  crimsoning  the  eastern  skies,  ascend- 
ing until  it  irradiates  the  glorious  firmament,  and  causes  Hall- 
back  to  forget,  for  the  moment,  the  bitter  past,  and  to  ex- 
claim :  "  Heaven  !  it  is  there !" 

Regenerated  by  the  touchstone  of  human  sympathy,  each 
dew-drop  now  seemed  to  him  a  diamond,  and  each  spear  of 
grass,  as  it  glistened  in  the  sunlight,  diamond-pointed  with 
dew,  seemed  to  suddenly  awaken  his  dulled  sensibilities  as 
they  grouped  and  clustered  around  the  memories  of  the  long 
ago.  For  the  first  time  in  long  years  he  noted  the  herb 
yielding  seed,  and  the  fruit  tree  yielding  fruit.     Not  for  him 


ETOWAH.  511 

had  been  these  herbs  and  these  fruits,  these  lights  and  shades 
and  yonder  glorious  skies.  Not  for  the  poor,  disgraced,  de- 
based convict — a  victim  to  a  treachery  as  mean  as  the  mean- 
est trait  of  mankind — not  for  such  as  he  were  the  glorious 
lights  of  the  evening  and  the  morning,  of  the  day  and  the 
night.  Not  for  him  the  vision  of  moving  waters  full  of  ani- 
mated life  and  moving  things,  or  the  beauteous  winged  crea- 
tures that  fly  from  flower  to  flower,  and  from  tree  to  tree, 
sipping  the  nectar  of  nature. 

To  his  strained  eyes,  now  getting  accustomed  to  the  unac- 
customed light,  the  air  seemed  filled  with  happy  birds  and 
winged  creatures  soaring  to  the  open  firmament  of  heaven. 
And  he  stood  forth,  like  the  votary  of  the  Koran,  in  natural 
worship,  and,  uplifting  his  hands  appealingly  to  the  rising 
sun,  seemed  a  veritable  sun-worshipper. 

They  stood  upon  the  mountain  top,  and  before  them  were 
broad,  verdant  valleys,  and  the  wide,  winding  beautiful  river 
which  courses  through  those  lovely  Tenessee  mountains. 
Like  a  lovely  ribbon  did  it  seem,  girdling  fair  Nature  ;  and 
to  Hallback  it  seemed  the  realization  of  his  early  dreams  of 
heaven,  as  he  said  to  himself:  ''If  uncle  Barney  was  only 
here  to  view  this  with  me."  Then  a  flash  of  the  old  danger- 
light  glowed  in  his  eyes  like  a  living  burning  coal,  and  was 
as  suddenly  succeeded  by  that  cold,  dogged  look  of  sullen 
despair,  as  he  turned  away  his  head  and,  burying  it  in  his 
hands,  wept  convulsively.  In  a  moment  that  flood  of  memo- 
ries engulfed  his  mind,  and  shut  out  this  beautiful  scene 
from  his  gaze  as  the  gloomy  incidents  of  eighteen  years  of 
convict  life  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  rushed  over  his  crowded 
brain.  Recovering  his  self-possession  at  last,  with  a  husky 
voice,  he  raised  himself  from  the  great  stone  upon  which  he 
had  thrown  himself,  there  at  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  over- 


512  ETOWAH. 

looking  seven  States  of  the  American  Union,  and  asked  : — 
"  Marse  Henry,  where  is  Hefflin?" 

"In  Canada,  Hall,  a  refugee  from  outraged  justice." 

"And  where  is  Canada?" 

"Do  you  see  those  distant  mountains,  hundreds  of  miles 
away  ?"  said  Latane,  pointing  to  the  Blue  Ridge  in  Virginia. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  Hall,  those  mountains  are  in  Virginia  where  you 
and  I  served  as  soldiers ;  the  war  is  over  now,  peace  fills  the 
land  with  smiling  harvest  and  all  its  gentle  influences,  and 
there  is  no  more  enmity  between  the  North  and  South. 
'Let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead,'  Hall ;  it  is  best.  Let  us 
emulate  the  soldiers  of  both  armies  who  are  devoting  their 
lives  to  rebuilding  the  waste-places.  There  are  Veteran  As- 
sociations in  the  land  and  the  Gray  and  the  Blue  meet  to- 
gether in  friendly  intercourse  and  do  all  that  they  can  to 
moderate  and  stifle  the  passions  which  selfish  politicians  seek 
to  keep  alive." 

"It  is  there,  Canada  is — over  those  mountains  and  hun- 
dred of  miles  away — and  Hefflin  is  in  Canada,"  mused  Hall- 
back. 

Then  he  raised  himself,  shook  himself,  tried  his  limbs  as  if 
to  see  if  they  were  equal  to  the  task  of  so  long  a  journey. 
"Truly,"  thought  Latane,  "■vendetta  was  never  so  pictured 
upon  the  face  of  mortal  man."  Then  he  said  to  Hallback  : 
"Sit  down.  Hall,  the  carriage  which  is  to  bear  us  away  will 
be  here  shortly  and  you  must  compose  yourself,  my  friend." 

Hallback  grasped  his  hand  convulsively,  saying,  "Marse 
Henry  !  Marse  Henry !"  then  took  from  his  pocket  a  worn 
and  faded  Bible,  and  waving  his  hand  toward  the  limitless 
landscape,  handed  it  to  Latan^  and  pointed  to  the  26th  verse 
of  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis.     Latane  read  aloud  as  follows  : 


ETOWAH.  513 

•'And  (xod  said,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image  ;  after  our 
likeness  ;  and  let  him  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the  sea, 
and  over  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  over  the  cattle,  and  over 
every  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  upon  the  earth. 

So  God  created  man  in  his  own  image,  in  the  image  of  God 
created  he  him  ;  male  and  female  created  he  them. 

And  God  blessed  them,  and  God  said  unto  them,  Be  fruit- 
ful, and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth,  and  subdue  it ; 
and  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the 
fowls  of  the  air,  and  over  every  living  thing  that  moveth  upon 
the  earth.  And  God  said,  Behold  I  have  given  you  every  herb 
bearing  seed,  which  is  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  every 
tree  in  the  'forest  which  is  the  fruit  of  a  tree  yielding  seed ; 
to  you  it  shall  be  for  meat. 

Thus  the  heavens  and  the  earth  were  finished  and  all  of 
the  host  of  them." 

Hallback  laid  his  hand  on  Latane's  shoulder  and  said, 
pointing  backward  to  the  entrance  to  the  coal  mines,  which 
seemed  to  him  like  Dante's  Inferno  :  "He  who  enters  here, 
leaves  hope  behind,"  and  said:  "Hefflin,  and  the  judge,  and 
the  others  robbed  me  of  all  that  God  gave  to  man,  and  did  it 
without  just  cause  !"  and  then,  clenching  his  hands  fiercely, 
he  pointed  to  the  Virginia  mountains  again  and  said :  "He 
is  in  Canada;  and  Canada  is  over  there.     I  icillfind  him" 

"No,  Hall,  they  did  not  rob  you  of  all  that  God  gave  you  ; 
let  me  read  another  verse  :  "And  the  Lord  God  formed  man 
of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the 
breath  of  life  ;  and  man  became  a  living  soul." 

And  again  the  shadows  passed  from  his  fine  face,  still 
striking  in  spite  of  the  misery  which  had  set  its  seal  there, 
and   a  voice   seemed  to    reach    him   from  the  lips  of  c^ld 

33 


514  ETOWAH. 

Barney,  "  Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord  ;  I  will  repay." 

And  there  we  will  bid  them  adieu,  there  under  the  limit- 
less canopy  of  heaven,  where  Hallback  stands  in  the  free  air, 
once  more  a  free  man. 

For  the  relative  conditions  of  these  two  is  typical  of  the 
two  races  to-day  in  the  Southern  States.  The  interests  of  the 
two  races  are  interdependent,  their  sympathies  are  mutual, 
and  mav  thev  be  as  lastinof  as  time  itself. 

When  adversity  strikes  down  the  tormer  slave,  it  is  to  his 
old  master  that  he  first  turns  for  aid,  and  rarely  is  his  appeal 
for  sympathy  unheeded. 

And  beautiful  is  that  evidence  of  attachment,  when  the 
emancipated  slave  offers  part  of  his  hard-earned  money  to 
alleviate  the  poor  and  almost  friendless  orphans  of  his  former 
wealthy  master  now  in  his  grave. 

Ts^o  longer  does  the  venerable  Colonel  Leslie,  with  courtly 
manners  and  gracious  hospitality,  "welcome  the  coming, 
speed  the  parting  guest."  Full  of  honors  as  of  years,  beloved 
and  respected  by  all,  he  has  gone  down  the  vale  of  life  and 
reached  the  shadowy  land  of  spirits  where  just  men,  like 
himself,  are  made  perfect. 

•  Wellington  Napoleon  Potts  has  realized  his  j^i'optietic 
hopes:  he  is  rich,  and  can  buy  all  the  "friends"  he  wants. 
He  wants  no  friends  Avhom  he  can  not  "use ; "  and  he 
despises  the  very  correct  assertion  that  to  "use"  a  friend  for 
selfish  purposes  is  to  be  the  reverse  of  a  gentleman. 

He  lives  in  the  costliest  mansion  in  the  growing  city,  and 
proves  to  men  who  formerly  despised  him  that  no  slavery  is 
worse  than  that  of  an  honest  debtor  to  an  infamous  but  wise 
<?reditor. 

"  Ephraim  is  joined  to  his  idols,  let  him  alone." 


ETOWAH.  515 

One  of  the  Etowah  prisoners  is  a  member  of  the  Congress 
of  the  United  States. 

Time,  the  great  magician,  hath  wrought  this  miracle.  Our 
nimble  acquaintance,  Jonathan  Ray,  alias  John  Hefflin, 
had  learned  too  much  about  "  the  ways  that  are  dark  and  the 
tricks  that  are  vain"  indulged  in  by  Wellington  Napoleon 
Potts  to  permit  that  worthy  to  dispense  with  his  services. 
But  now  Cashier  Hefflin,  whose  early  propensities  were  too 
strong  to  be  resisted,  is  luxuriating  in  Canada,  that  Mecca  of 
defaulting  bank  officials. 

Alcohol,  thou  demon  of  this  nineteenth  centurv  I  thou 
hast  slain  more  than  the  war  itself.  Oh !  that  the  fell  thirst 
which  seizes  a  noble,  high-minded  man,  distinguished  as 
the  first  scholar  in  his  class,  or  the  most  gallant  soldier  in 
his  corps,  and  drags  him  down  to  alcoholic  insanity,  could 
be  annihilated !  Or,  that  God  could  blot  out  forever  and 
cast  into  eternal  nothingness  that  demon,  thirst  for  alcohol  • 
It  would  snatch  from  the  yawning  grave  the  noblest  spirits, 
who  would  cast  aside  the  bitter  cup  if  they  could.  Blame 
them  not,  for,  like  the  Laocoon,  they  are  powerless  in  the 
coils  of  the  serpent.  It  is  a  disease  resistless,  for  the  time 
being,  as  the  yellow  fever  which  slays  its  victims  beneath 
brazen  skies,  unless  the  poor  victim  is  led  by  the  hand  of 
affection  to  submit  to  a  wise  restraint.  Blame  not  the 
inebriate ;  but  watch  over  him  tenderly  for,  by  degrees,  he 
may  be  redeemed.  Utter  not  one  word  of  reproach  ;  breathe 
no  word  of  shame  ;  suggest  no  thought  of  disgrace  ;  but  lead 
him,  as  you  would  a  sick  child,  and  urge  him  to  remember 
that  his  body  is  God's  temple,  and  all  that  honor  or  happi- 
iiess  can  offer  mav  vet  be  his,  if  he  will  but  overcome  that 
fatal  thirst.  Time  will  heal  all  things,  all  injuries,  all  wrongs, 
and   cover   them   with    the    mantle  of  charitv.      Emile  La- 


516  ETOWAH. 

Grange  could  not  resist  temptation,  and  he  was  kept  con- 
cealed from  his  friends  by  his  cruel  captors  until  delirium 
ended  in  death. 

Abuse  has  glanced  from  the  golden  armor  of  the  rich  lessee 
of  convicts,  and  the  fickle  multitude  hail  him  as  the  wisest 
of  men.  Well  may  he  exclaim,  ^^  UEtat,  cest  moi/^^  Two 
hundred  dollars  profit  per  day  for  the  lease  of  three  hundred 
''  long-term  able-bodied  convicts  "  is  six  thousand  dollars  a 
month  ;  it  is  seventy-two  thousand  dollars  a  year ;  it  is  one 
million  and  four  hundred  and  forty-four  thousands  of  dollars 
in  twenty  years;  and  this  is  accomplished  without  the 
investment  of  one  dollar !  So  seems  it  to  the  liberated  Hall- 
back. 

As  the  years  go  by  and,  one  by  one,  our  friends  and 
acquaintances  "  cross  over  the  river,"  personal  antagon- 
isms cease,  and  charity  would  lower  the  veil  here.  "  Judge 
not,  that  ye  be  not  judged,"  and  let  us  hope  that  this  penal 
institution,  which  subjects  some  good  men  to  undeserved 
censure,  may  speedily  give  way  to  a  more  enlightened 
system. 

The  matchless  cavalry  general,  so  daring  and  indomitable 
that  he  had  "  cut  his  way  out,"  rather  than  surrender  at  Ap- 
pomattox, has  surrendered  unconditionally  at  last.  He  has 
left  his  ancestral  home,  "  Etowah  Heights,"  and  lives  at 
"  Chestatee,"  the  husband  of  the  young  lady  whom  he  had 
often  dandled  upon  his  knee  when  she  was  a  little  child  as 
innocent  as  the  butterflies  which  flitted  about  her  sunny 
head. 

"  The  mystic  chords  of  memory  stretching  from  every 
battle-field  and  patriot  grave,  to  every  living  heart  and  hearth- 
stone, all  over  this  broad  land,  will  yet  swell  the  chorus  of 


ETOWAH.  517 

the  Union,  when  again  touched,  as  surely  as  they  will  be,  by 
the  better  angels  of  our  nature.'' 

The  kinship  of  humanity  ennobles  humanity  ;  and  it  is  as 
broad  as  the  seas  and  as  deep  as  the  earth.  May  it  shield  the 
weaker  from  the  oppressions  of  the  stronger,  and  aid  poor 
human  nature  to  solve  a  difficult  problem.  And  may  the 
v^outh  of  this  fair  sunnv  Southland  revere  the  memories  of 
the  great  past,  and  adhere  to  the  simple  faith,  the  loyalty  to 
truth  and  virtue,  and  the  veneration  for  integrity  of  act  and 
purpose  which  so  distinguished  their  fathers. 

THE    END. 


APPENDIX, 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS . 

For  the  benefit  of  the  reader,  my  acknowldgments  are  made  in  this 
appendix,  attention  being  called  to  matter  that  is  not  original  with  the 
author  by  means  of  asterisks  or  figures. 

Chapter  I. 

*  Allusion  is  here  made  to  the  speech  of  Alexander  H,  Stephens  be-^ 
fore  the  Secession  Convention  at  the  capital  or  the  State  of  Georgia, 

Among  the  numerous  criticisms  of  the  press  of  the  "advance  sheets" 
of  this  book  sent  to  many  of  them,  the  following  should  challenge  atten- 
tion: 

From  the  Chillicothe,  (Ohio)  Gazette,  November  17,  1887. 

"  The  author  says  the  Confederate  soldiers  possessed  'a  patriotism  and 

heroism    unsurpassed   in    history,'  and    that    they    deserve   'a  patriot's 

gratitude,'    etc.      It  is   true  that  they  were    brave,    and  were    admired 

for  pertinacity  to  their  cause,  but  no  civilized  nations  call  them  patriotic." 

It  is  to  remove  such  erroneous  impressions  that  the  author  of  this 
book  introduced  in  Chapter  I,  the  letter  of  a  typical  Southerner  whose 
pecuniary  and  professional  intei*ests  were  altogether  with  the  govern- 
ment of  the  United  States,  and  whose  interests  were  not  connected  with, 
or  affected  by  slavery . 

The  author  was  in  London  when  the  following  allusions  were  made 
by  Sir  John  Pakington  at  a  banquet  tendered  to  Commodore  Maury  at 
Willis'  rooms  in  London,  June  6,  1866.  This  banquet  was  given  for  the 
purpose  of  presenting  Commodore  Maury  with  a  testimonial  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  valuable  and  distinguished  services  he  had  rendered  to 
the  maritime  nations  of  the  world.      Said  Sir  John  Pakington  : 

•  It  was  well  said  by  the  great  'philosopher  Humboldt,   that  you  had 


520  '  ETOWAH. 

discovered  a  new  department  of  human  knowledge,  and  it  was  Hum- 
boldt who  gave  to  it  the  name  of  the  physical  geography  of  the  sea. 

These  services  have  received  in  all  parts  of  the  world  a  frank  and 
cordial  acknowledgment,  Russia,  Prussia,  Austria,  France,  Denmark, 
Norway,  Sweden,  Holland,  Portugal,  Bremen  and  Sardinia  ;  and  from 
every  one  of  these  nations  have  you  received  one  of  their  orders  of 
knighthood,  and  in  some  instances  medals  struck  especially  in  your 
honor.  The  State  of  New  York,  in  which  you  so  long  exercised  your 
talent,  contributed  a  service  of  plate  and  five  thousand  dollars.  But,  sir, 
this  is  not  all.  I  hold  in  my  hand  a  letter  from  wiiich  I  will  read  an  ex- 
tract, but  before  doing  so,  allow  me  to  observe  that  it  was  just  at  this 
moment,  when  you  were  in  the  zenith  of  your  time,  and  in  the  midst  of 
your  great  pursuits,  that  that  unhappy  civil  war  broke  out  by  which  the 
finest  portions  of  the  South  of  the  United  States  were  desolated .  It 
would  be  unbecoming  in  me, on  this  occasion,  to  express  anything  like  a 
political  feeling.  But  this,  I  think,  I  may  be  allowed  to  saj-,  that  we 
Englishmen,  who  watched  that  great  struggle — whilst  some  may  have 
wished  well  to  one  party,  and  others  to  anothei- — there  was  one  point  on 
which  everj'  one  had  no  shadow  of  a  difference  of  opinion,  and  that 
was,  that  on  both  sides,  by  the  North  and  by  the  South  alike,  that  strug- 
gle was  conducted  with  a  vigor,  with  an  energy,  with  a  bravery,  and 
with  a  skill,  which  has  made  the  Anglo-Saxons  proud  of  their  de- 
scendants . 

You  were  by  birth,  a  Southerner,  your  leanings  and  your  sympathies 
Avere  entirely  for  the  South,  and  the  part  you  took  was  again  worthv  of 
your  character  and  your  career.  You  took  the  part  of  a  patriotic  and 
an  honest  man .  You  abandoned  the  pursuits  in  which  you  were  taking 
such  deep  interest; you  threw  up  office,  the  honorable  public  ofiice  which 
you  held,  and  went  to  that  country  to  which  you  felt  you  were  attached 
and  you  entered  heartily  and  honorably  into  the  cause  you  felt  it  your 
duty  to  espouse .  It  was  at  this  moment  that  a  letter  I  hold  in  my  hand 
was  written,  which  said  thai,  'sincerely  deploring  the  inactivity  into 
which  the  state  of  affairs  has  plunged  you,  I  feel  called  on  to  invite  you 
to  take  up  your  residence  in  this  country,  where  you  may,  in  peace, 
continue  your  useful  occupation.  Your  position  will  be  independent. 
You  will  be  bound  by  no  conditions .  You  Avill  always  be  able  to  steer 
back  across  the  ocean;  and  in   the  event  of  your   not  pleasing  to  return. 


ETOWAH.  521 

in  regard  to  your  material  welfare  everything  shall  be  done.'  That  is 
addressed  to  you  by  the  Grand  Duke  Constantine,  of  Russia.  It  was 
then  that  the  Russian  Prince,  in  the  name  of  a  great  empire,  assured 
you  of  his  respect  for  your  public  services  and  offered  you  a  home. 

A  similar  invitation  was  made  on  behalf  of  France  by  Prince  Napo- 
leon, and  I  can  not  but  feel  proud  of  the  manner  in  which  those  great 
persons  came  forward  to  render  to  you  the  homage  which  is  your  due. 
Such  then,  are  the  circumstances  that  have  led  to  this  mteresting  cere- 
monial, and  it  is  now  my  duty  to  address  you  in  the  name  of  England, 
in  the  name  of  Europe,  and  I  shall  not  exaggerate  if  I  say  in  the  name 
of  the  civilized  world. 

I  request  vou  then,  to  do  vis  the  honor  of  accepting  this  testimonial  of 
considerably  moi^e  than  three  thousand  guineas,  which  I  now  have  the 
great  honor  and  the  great  pleasure  of  asking  you  to  receive,  as  a  proof 
of  our  recognition  of  your  services,  and  of  the  esteem  and  admiration 
you  have  gained." 

Like  Robert  E.  Lee,  he  died  as  he  had  lived,  with  a  stainless  name, 
and  honored  as  a  patriot  wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken. 

For  the  statement  relating  to  pensions  in  the  '•  Dedication,"  the  reader 
is  referred  to  Pension  Commissioner  Black,  who  in  his  annual  report, 
states  that,  ''in  the  aggregate  1,091,200,000  pension  claims  have  been 
filed  since  1861 .  An  appropriation  of  $79,045,230  is  asked  for  the 
next  fiscal  year.     That  for  the  current  year  was  $78,701,250. 

The  following  statement  is  my  authority  for  the  statement  in  the 
Dedication : 

"The  Democrat,"  of  Champaign,  Ohio,  of  July  14,  1887,  states: 
"Twelve  millions  of  dollars  will  be  paid  out  for  pensions  during  the  cur- 
rent month,  and  as  much  more  in  August." 

In  the  descriptions  of  the  carnival  in  New  Orleans,  the  execution  of  Mrs. 
Suratt,  Paine  and  Atzeroth,  and  the  conversation  Avith  President  John- 
son, the  author  is  partially  indebted  to  newspaper  reports,  from  which 
notes  were  taken  when  they  were  printed.  The  object  being  to  present 
life  as  it  was  and  is;  this  was  deemed  preferable  to  entire  originality. 
When  life  is  a  drama,  the  truth  is  romance,  and  undoubted  facts  blended 
with  the  coloring  of  romance,  are   better  than  pure  imaginative  writing. 


522  ETOWAH. 

Chapter  VIII. 
*See  "  The  Red  Cross,"  by  H.  H.  S.  Thompson . 

Chapter  IX. 

Erratum.     For  "New  Red  Sandstone,  read:   "Old  Red  Sandstone." 

Chapter  IX. 

*Senator  Morrill,  of  Vermont,  stated  in  the  United  States  Senate 
Chamber,  December  13,  18S7,  that  seventy  per  cent,  of  the  population 
of  Boston  was  coinposed  of  persons  of  foreign  birth  and  foreign  parent- 
age, eighty  per  cent,  of  New  York,  and  ninety-one  per  cent,  of  the  pop- 
ulation of  Chicago,  and  these  figures  might  be  aggravated  by  future 
immigration.  By  the  census  of  18S0,  the  population  of  foreign  birth 
and  parentage  was  about  15,000,000;  and  immigration  since  then  4,345,- 
000;  so  that,  without  including  children  born  of  foreign  parents  since 
1880,  there  was  now  in  this  countr\',  a  foreign  population  of  19,340,000 
or  nearly  one-third  of  the  entire  population. 

For  allusions  to  M.  Mariette,  -'-see  Bouillet's  Dictionaire  des  Sciences 
et  des  x\rts. 

See,  also,  Appleton's  Encyclopedia. 

Also,  Harper's  Magazine  for  September,  1887. 

Chapter   XIII. 

*An  Englishman,  who  was  sojourning  in  Richmond,  Va.,  in  1859, 
contributed  to  McMillan's  Magazine  the  facts  conncerning  the  auction 
sale  of  slaves  contained  in  this  chapter.  In  order  to  have  it  entirely 
impartial,  the  author  has  substituted  this  account  of  a  slave  sale  verbatim, 
for  the  chapter  written  on  the  same  subject  by  himself. 

Chapter  XXXI. 

*  The  incidents  related  in  this  chapter  concerning  the  imprisonment 
and  torture  in  the  "  Sweat-Box,"  at  Fort  Pulaski,  actually  occurred  as  re- 
lated. The  affidavits  of  the  negro  prisoners  who  thus  suffered  can  be 
produced.  They  were  sworn  to,  June  6,  1868.  The  Washington  "Na- 
tional Intelligencer,"  published  a  full  statement  of  it. 


ETOWAH.  528 

Chapter  XXXIII. 

"'•'  For  the  incidents  related  in  this  chapter  giving  the  experience  at 
Johnson's  Island,  see  Southern  Historical  Society  papers.  The  state- 
ments can  be  verified  by  thousands  of  prisoners.  Incidents  giving  indi- 
vidual instances  of  sufferings  are  omitted,  for  it  is  not  the  desire  of  the 
\\  liter  to  excite  the  evil  passions  of  men. 

Chapter  XXXVII. 

"=•  See  the  official  repoil  of  Generals  James  B.  Steedman,  U.  S.  V.,  and 
J.  S.  Fullerton,  U.  S.  V.,  to  E.  M.  Stanton,  Secretary  of  War,  dated  May 
^,  1 866,  for  verification  of  every  statement  made  in  this  chapter  concern- 
ing the  operations  of  "The  Freedmen's  Bureau." 

Chapter  XXXVI. 

*  The  remarks  attributed  to  President  Johnson  in  this  chapter  were 
actually  his  own  words,  made  to  a  reporter  for  the  London  Standard  in 
iS66,  And  the  speech  of  Senator  Thaddeus  Stevens  in  the  United  States 
Senate,  contained  the  exact  words  used  in  the  context  in  same  chapter. 

Chapter    XXXV. 

''■  See  pamphlet  entitled  "^A  Military  Outrage,"  giving  the  facts  rela- 
ting to  this  remarkable  trial. 

Chapter   XXXVII. 

*  The  argument  attributed  to  the  leading  counsel  for  the  accused  in  the 
brief  speech  introduced  in  this  chapter,  was  used  by  Hon.  Randolph 
Tucker,  in  a  case  involving  the  execvition  of  condemned  men  who  had 
not  been  tried  by  a  petit  jury. 

Chapter  XLI. 

*The  National  Republican,  of  November  12,  1887,  states  that  there  was, 
at  that  date,  in  the  Treasury  of  the  United  States,  the  enormous  sum  of 


522  ETOWAH. 

six  hundred  and  t-tvelv?.   millions^  six  hundrt-d  and  thirty-eight  thousand 
four  hundred  and  sixty -nine  dollars. 

Chapter    XL. 

*  From  "  Cotton  Facts  "(edition  of  18S3),  a  standard  authority,  we  learn 
that  the  cotton  crops  of  1865-6  was  2,278,000  bales.  A  tax  of  3  cents 
per  pound  on  a  bale  of  450  pounds  would  amount  to  $13.50  per  bale,  and 
on  2,270,000  bales  to  $30,753,000  as  the  total  tax  collected  for  one  year's 
crop.  The  tax  was  subsequently  I'educed,  so  that  the  total  amount  was 
about  $68,000,000.  In  the  absence  of  certain  information  I  have  given 
that  as  the  probablv  correct  estimate.  The  Government  is  certainly  rich 
enough  to  restore  this  illegally  exacted  tax. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wiimer 

445 
c.l 


>.''  r'V  -■■•r' 


.■■.»^,i-,<- 


-v^^^->:^.'.;C 


